Hazbin Hotel: The Chronicles of Juniper Charms
by BlueRaven 666
Summary: Witch and fortune teller Juniper Charms makes the trip to Hazbin Hotel to see if sinners can really be rehabilitated & redeemed. While there, she makes it her mission to transform the hotel's owner a demon princess Hell can respect and appreciate, and helps to debunk the mystery behind the infamous Radio Demon. RATED M for language and adult themes. PLEASE REVIEW!
1. Chapter 1: Checking In

**Chapter 1: Checking In**

To be fair, no place in Hell is wonderful, but there was no doubt in my mind that the south side of Pentagram City was _the worst_. Apparently, someone at some point decided the south side would be the place for the most vanilla of sinners. Non-believers, pagans, petty thieves, suicide victims, and the newly manifested that were trying to get on their feet and figure out what the fuck was going on all seemed to get crammed into this one, little, rotting corner of Hell.

On the plus side, this meant that the south side was the quietest area in the entire realm. Fights for territory were rare, and violent crimes were almost non-existent. Almost all of us in this slummy little neighborhood knew each other by name, and demons went to one another for their own specific talents and company. One would think Hell would be the last place anybody could make friends, but there was no denying that there were a few sinners and fellow demons that I got on with better than others.

On the down side, it left me as the one with the biggest reputation in all of the south side: the palm-reading, tarot-card-carrying demon that had visions and could see things others couldn't. People came from all over our little corner of Hell for readings and insight. A week before every extermination, my little makeshift den of lumber, aluminum, and cardboard boxes would be packed with sinners wanting all sorts of spells, charms, and advice on how to survive.

At least my talents allowed me to make decent money, but I knew I wasn't going to be able to live like this for all eternity. Something was going to give eventually. All of my regular customers would stop coming, or some other, much more powerful demon would decide to take over, and I would be powerless to stop it.

And then I heard about the Happy Hotel, thanks to one of my oh so insightful dreams. It may have only been a fleeting glimpse, but the sign reading "Happy Hotel" was forever embedded in my mind's eye.

On one of the rare days where I was feeling brave enough to venture out of the south side, I kept hearing it in passing.

"Hey! Have you heard of the _Crappy _Hotel?"

"Is that what it was called? I thought it was the _Trashy _Hotel."

"The hotel that 'rehabilitates' sinners? The _Shabby _Hotel, I think it was?"

Rehabilitates sinners? That got my attention. While I'd only been in Hell for a few years, I thought the only way any of us were ever getting out was by being killed in the next extermination. But then, I always wondered where we all went after that? Would we cease to exist? Would we be reincarnated? Would we go to a place worse than Hell?

I guess it turns out we all still wonder what comes after death when one is killed in the afterlife.

The Happy Hotel: the place where my visions seemed to want me to go. It may have seemed like an easy choice on the surface; leave the slums behind in exchange for a real bed and possible redemption, but nobody seemed to be able to confirm it. Whenever I would ask if the rumors were really true, the other demons would just laugh and walk away. There was no way of knowing if the Happy Hotel could deliver on its promise of being able to send sinners to Heaven, or if every effort would be for nothing. And what's worse was that nobody seemed to be willing to give it a try.

"You could try it and see what happens," my neighbor, Hector, stated when I brought it up, "What do you have to lose?"

He had a point. Demons in the south side of Hell really didn't own much territory, nor were we looking to build empires dedicated to ourselves, thus eliminating the need to fight for territory. We only ever needed the square footage to house ourselves and or our families. Homes in the south were as easy to find as bark on trees. But even if redemption was possible, how long would it take? A few weeks? A few months? _Years_? Or maybe it just didn't matter how long it took to be redeemed so long as progress was made.

There was only one problem I had in all of this. I didn't know where the Happy Hotel was. The closest I got to a specific location was the west side of Pentagram City, on the other side of town. That wasn't much to go on. The west side was a huge, bustling city full of every kind of sinner under the sun. It was even rumored to be home to the infamous Radio Demon, and nobody in the south side had heard from him in a while. Some said he was still out there somewhere, just waiting for someone to challenge him, but many others had their doubts. Regardless, the west side was far from safe, nor was it easy to navagate. Trying to find the exact hotel would be all but impossible.

I was beside myself for a few days, not knowing where to start my search, when a wispy sprite came dancing in my field of vision. Red with the grin of a Cheshire cat, eyes like moonstone, and a shape like that of a ghostly deer, it moved almost like an eel through the air as it beckoned me to follow. I hesitated. In life, I was always warned to be wary of spirits and their tricks and charms. The last time I trusted a sprite enough to follow it, I died. I wasn't about to make the same mistake twice.

But days passed, and the sprite remained. Moreover, it started appearing in my dreams; sometimes as a wispy stag, sometimes as the silhouette of a tall, thin man. Always red, and always grinning. I started to get the feeling that I really was meant to follow this creature, and it would eventually lead me to the Happy Hotel.

Eventually, I came to a decision and decided to see where the sprite would lead me. I didn't have much I could bring; a few cleansing crystals, a couple of spell books, and the clothes on my back were really all I could take with me, along with a week's worth of earnings; enough to stop at a few places to eat and rent a room for the night, if need be. The journey to the west side was going to be long, tiring, and most likely challenging. Flying would be faster, but I learned the hard way that the denizens of Hell loved to use flyers as target practice. It might take longer, but it was a lot safer to walk, rather than risking being a pin cushion for people's knives, spears, bullets, and whatever else people wanted to aim at me with.

All except for my money was packed away into a bag. I slipped the cash away into a pocket on the inside of my coat and threw my cloak over my shoulders, irritating every feather on my wings as they were forced to press against my back. The sprite was still waiting for me as I emerged out into the street, its unwavering smile stretching wider as I met its gaze. It knew. Who knows how much longer it would have stuck around if I kept on trying to ignore it, but it seemed to dance with delight in the decaying rubbish in the streets as I took a step towards it.

"Alright," I sighed, "Let's see what you have to show me."

One by one, familiar faces started popping out of their dens as I passed by. Numerous sets of glowing eyes watched from the shadows as whispers began rising through the air.

"Do you think she's going out to try to find that hotel?"

"Do you think she'll make it?"

"What if the hotel isn't real? What if these visions and rumors are wrong?"

"Nah, she's bound to find something. Juniper has never been wrong before."

I tried my best to swallow the dryness building in my throat. I had never been wrong. My predictions, readings, and visions had never been wrong. The spells and potions I'd concocted for others had always been successful, but that was me. This time, I was putting my faith in something else; a sprite that could lead me to the placed I'd envisioned in my dreams, or to my ultimate demise. This time, I could only _hope_ that I wasn't wrong.

As I approached the road leading out of this side of the city, I tossed a glance over my shoulder. Many had gathered and followed silently behind me, watching nervously as I started towards the massive city in the horizon. I could tell they were scared. The south side didn't have much in terms of territory, but out of all of us I had been the one to offer the most protection. My leaving would be like leaving them naked in the middle of a war zone.

As I took in every anxious face, every terrified expression, a small shape scurried out from the crowd until it sat at my feet. Two pointed ears flopped sadly against its little round, black face as a pair of big blue eyes looked up at me. If I had to compare him to anything, it'd probably be a tiny, black fruit bat.

"You'll come back, won't you?" he asked in a small voice.

"Of course I will," I replied, giving the tiny imp a pat on the head, being careful that my over-sized talons didn't shred him to pieces. I straightened my spine as I turned to address the small crowd behind me, "I _will _come back. I'm going to find the Happy Hotel, and see if these rumors are true."

"When will you be back?" I heard someone yell.

I shook my head, my curving horns and dreaded indigo hair feeling heavier than they ever had before, "I don't know, but this is something I feel like I need to do. I mean, how will anybody know if demons and sinners can be rehabilitated and go to Heaven if nobody is willing to try?"

I could see a few individuals in the crowd nod in agreement, while others looked on with growing skepticism.

"If it's not worth it, then it's not worth it. If someone's gotta test the waters, it might as well be me."

A shiver ran down my spine as I felt the crimson wisps of the sprite curl around me, almost forcing me to turn around back towards the open road. Even from this distance, I could see the massive clock tower looming in the sky. Next Cleanse: 351 days. In 351 days, I was either going to be hiding with everyone else in an attempt to survive the next extermination or I'd be out of this place and in Heaven...

Or I'd already be dead. That was always a possibility.

"Now..." I huffed under my breath as the sprite sprang ahead of me, "Take me to this Happy Hotel."

* * *

My eyes strained against the lights of the sign as they lit up against the dark red sky, before shooting the sprite I'd been following an exacerbated look. The buck literally stopped here, and _here_ wasn't where I was supposed to be. Above me, the sign read, not _Happy _Hotel, but Hazbin Hotel.

"Really?" I grumbled, "Seriously?"

The sprite cocked its head to the side, almost as if it was wondering what it had done wrong.

"I'm looking for the _Happy _Hotel. H-A-P-P-Y! Happy, not Hazbin!"

The sprite blinked its wide, pale eyes once before it danced on ahead and slipped through a crack in the hotel's front door.

I massaged my aching temples, trying not to lose my patience any more than I already had. I'd been walking all day, trying to avoid any sort of confrontation. But the west side was violent. I'd been shoved to the side and to the ground, often into a puddle or a pile of trash, no less than five times. Someone tried stealing my cloak right off of my shoulders, only to end up losing his head instead. All the places I tried eating at were either too packed or too expensive, and now this.

I was tired, dirty, hungry, and pissed off. There was no way I was going to be able to walk back to the south side of Pentagram City without resting for the night. This was no Happy Hotel, but it'd have to do.

Carefully, I opened the door and peered into the front lobby. The place was dark, only illuminated by a small fireplace and some kind of bar that was decked out like a slot machine. The demon sitting behind the counter was kicked back in his seat, his hat tilted forward over his eyes as a half-empty bottle of booze hung lazily from his claws. He was passed out. Somewhere in the distance I could hear an old radio playing some incoherent jumble of static and chatter.

As I walked through the lobby, I realized I wasn't entirely alone. A pink, spidery figure was sprawled across a loveseat with a magazine draped over its face, and a little cyclopean girl was zipping through every corner of the room, dusting and snatching up bugs wherever she found them. A girl with pale hair and dark skin was curled up on another couch in a secluded corner, and appeared to be nursing some sort of internalized, pent up irritation, pinching the bridge of her nose and growling through a set of sharp, gritted teeth. As far as I could tell, nobody here had realized I'd even entered the building.

I was halfway to the front desk when my attention veered back to the radio, which seemed to make its way closer. From a dark hallway, a pair of glowing red eyes emerged into the dim light of the lobby, revealing a tall, thin man dressed in red. I froze as I met his gaze, his painfully wide smile exposing his sharp, yellow teeth. It was then that I realized that it wasn't a busted, old-timey radio I was hearing. It was chuckling and humming... in _his _voice.

All at once I felt cold. I'd only seen this demon once before, but I hadn't forgotten.

"You..."

The Radio Demon.

With a click of his heels, he stopped in front of me, his blood-red eyes sweeping over my form before throwing out his arms.

"_Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!_"

Huh?

"_Congratulations, my dear! You are this establishment's very first guest! Quite a pleasure to be meeting you, Miss..._"

I struggled through my anxiety and shock, trying to piece together an intelligible thought, "Uh... uh, Juniper..."

"_Juniper! Pleasure to meet you!_" a clawed, bony hand grabbed mine firmly, and gave it an overly enthusiastic shake, "_The name's Alastor_..."

This guy... I wasn't sure if I wanted to be scared or amused. I'd seen him one time in the three years I'd been in Hell, and I've heard snippets of his broadcasts on the radio here and there, but I didn't remember him being like this at all! His broadcasts narrated a descriptive play-by-play of the defeat of his latest opponent. He was part the reason the south side was such a shithole in the first place. The one time I'd seen him was when he claimed that part of the city as part of his territory; now forgotten and left behind, but the mark remained. Other demons didn't dare try to take from him.

Now he was being... friendly? And polite? What happened to the black-antlered monster that was always painted red with the blood of those who challenged him?

"Will you _shut up_?!" came a deafening shout from across the lobby, along with a sharp blade that was sent whizzing past the Radio Demon's head, "You're scaring her to death, _asshole_!"

From across the room, the lady with the dark skin stomped up to us and shoved the red-clad demon away. The lobby was thrown into a moment of chaos as the demon at the front desk fell out of his chair, and the pink spidery demon jumped out of his seat, sending his magazine flying. It was only then that I recognized his face, since it was plastered all over the city; Angel Dust.

"I'm sorry," I stuttered out, "Clearly, I'm in the wrong hotel."

The girl's eyes narrowed at me, "What do you mean?"

"Famous porn star, demon overlords. Obviously, this is a place for the higher class demons. I'm looking for the Happy Hotel."

All at once, the girl's eyes lit up, "You are? Seriously?! Well... you can thank shitlord over here for that little mix up. This _is _the Happy Hotel!"

I backed up for a moment to get my bearings. I made it... I actually fucking made it!

"Let's start over," the girl stated dusting herself off and sticking out her hand, "I'm Vaggie, and long, red, and cheesy over there is Alastor."

I glanced over to where the Radio Demon was stood, having fully recovered from Vaggie's blow. He gave a small wave to me, but there wasn't mistaking the malice in his eyes as he glanced towards her. A small shiver ran up my spine. Here was a demon that could turn other demons inside out like a pair of socks if he wanted to. Vaggie must have had quite a pair of balls to just shove him aside like some pesky sibling.

"And, yeah, Angel's here, too," Vaggie added, "He... really doesn't do much apart from causing trouble."

"Hey!" Angel Dust shouted, "I was clean for _two weeks_! What do ya want from me?!"

"Doing _coke_ to keep your dick in your pants is _not _being clean!"

A tug at my boots pulled my attention away from the rapidly escalating argument. A big, orange eye glanced back up at me as the little cyclopean girl that had been dusting just a few minutes ago swiftly polished my boots to a spotless shine, ridding them of all the mud and garbage I'd trudged through to get here.

"I'm Niffty!" she piped up, "Oh, geeze, another woman. Are we ever going to get any men in this place?!"

I struggled to hold in a laugh as I gestured to Angel and Alastor, "You've got two of them right here."

"They don't count," Niffty giggled before scurrying away.

With the tension gradually easing from my body, I allowed myself to relax.

"My name is Juniper Charms," I said, "I come from the south side of the city."

"The south side?" Vaggie echoed, "How'd you hear about us from that shithole of a dump?"

"I'm a witch and a fortune teller. Lately, I've been having dreams about this hotel. I figured I'd follow them, and give you guys a shot."

"Damn! You were able to find this place just from a dream?"

"Yeah, you didn't see the little interview we had on The Picture Show?" Angel piped up, earning a nasty glare from Vaggie.

"Not a lot of us have television," I explained, slowly batting an eye towards Alastor, "_Radio_, yes, but nothing was really explained over the available stations."

Really, there was only _one_ station the south side was able to access. The Radio Demon's station, but we hadn't heard a single hum, drone, or staticky tune from him in months. Some of us thought he'd finally been taken out by a more powerful demon. There was bound to be quite a bit of disappointment when I returned with the bad news.

"So, is it true then?" I asked, "Are you guys really able to rehabilitate sinners?"

"That's what we aim to do," Vaggie replied.

"Yeah, it's not workin' out so well just yet," Angel added, "You'll have to wait 'til Charlie shows up. She'll go over the rules, and expectations, and yadda yadda yadda."

My brow rose curiously, "Charlie? Lucifer's daughter? She set this place up?"

I'd heard of Charlie before; the princess of Hell that nobody took seriously. What I knew of her, I always thought she didn't belong in Hell, much less next in line for the throne. A lot of people speculated that was why Lucifer hadn't stepped down or kicked the bucket yet, because his heir had the spine of a rubber band and was flustered very easily. It honestly didn't come as much surprise to me that the princess would open a hotel like this.

"Charlie will be back first thing tomorrow," Vaggie explained, "For now, let's get you checked in and cleaned up. That is, if you still wanna give this place a shot."

I looked around at the other eager faces in the room. Well... semi-eager. Vaggie, Niffty, and Alastor all looked at me with expectant smiles. Angel Dust had gone back to his magazine, and the demon at the front desk rested on his elbows as he looked at me with an irritated scowl. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the sprite I had been following sway in the air for a moment before it vanished completely.

I had made it. I'd actually, really made it! I couldn't turn back now.

"One room, please!"


	2. Chapter 2: Settling In

**Chapter 2:** **Settling In**

Being Hazbin Hotel's very first guest had its perks, namely getting my pick of the rooms. There were hundreds of rooms in this place that offered every kind of accommodation possible. I had been sitting at ground level for the past three years, rarely ever getting to be somewhere with a view, so I picked out a room on the top floor that overlooked the city. It made me feel less small, less like an urchin hiding away in a dark crevice, and gave me the opportunity to view the west side from a less intimidating angle.

Vaggie left me to get cleaned up and settled in. The room wasn't all that special; not too different from the hotel rooms I remembered from the time when I was alive. It had a nice, full-sized bed, a TV, a nightstand with a radio, a table and chair in the corner, and a fully stocked bathroom. The color scheme was the same as many others around Hell. A whole lot of red and black, so much that it was almost painful to look at. But beggars can't be choosers, I suppose.

Hanging my cloak on a nearby tree rack, I took a moment to observe myself in the mirror. I must have looked quite the sight to the others at in the hotel. With the dirt that was smeared on my face and the mud that was caked onto my tattered blue jeans and black V-neck shirt, on top of the tousled mess that was my hair, I really did look like a street urchin that had just crawled out of its dark crevice. It made me feel more self-conscious about my appearance. As there wasn't exactly a surplus of pristine showers and baths to hop into every day... Was I always this filthy?

My mind was made up as I stripped myself of my soiled garments and tossed them aside. I wasn't sure how I was going to go about washing them, but I was more focused on getting _myself_ cleaned up first.

For it being a hotel shower, the stall was still spacious. People really didn't understand how much of a pain in the ass feathered wings were unless they had them. They could get heavy, shedded like crazy, and took up twice as much space than someone without wings would. On top of that, I had a cumbersome, six foot long tail attached to my backside, which had a tendency to whip at and knock over everything that was within range. In this shower, I could at least stretch them out a little without feeling too claustrophobic, and after spending a day with my wings pressed firmly against my back and my tail raging war under my cloak half of the time, being able to spread them out again was a welcome relief.

I didn't fully realize just how long it had been since I'd taken a proper shower until the water was turned on. I could feel the filth coming off with the streams that raced down my body, causing a brown puddle to form around my feet. The warmer the water got, the more the tightness began to ease from my muscles. The sensations were so foreign to me that I couldn't help the tears that snuck in with the water, crying with relief as I stood under the showerhead. This was _heavenly_!

Savoring every moment I had, I gently worked the sweet-smelling shampoo through each lock of my hair, and took my time washing it out. It turned out that my hair was holding onto quite a bit of filth, too, and it actually took a few rounds of washing the dreads out until the water finally ran clear. Once I was sure my hair was clean, I scrubbed the last patches of dirt still clinging to my body with every shower brush, wash cloth, and bath sponge available; draining my body wash of its contents until all I could smell was fruit and flowers. It was almost like torture when I finally forced myself to turn the water off.

The entire bathroom was filled with steam from the shower by the time I exited, filling the entire room with hellish fog. The temperature difference between the bathroom and the shower stall made me shiver, causing my wings to fluff out and shake the water from their feathers. I felt like a whole new person. I could get used to this.

Wrapping a towel around myself, I strode back out into my room. To my surprise, the dirty clothes I had discarded were gone, and a bag packed with clothing was sat on my bed with a note attached to it.

_"To Ms. Juniper Charms,_

_I took the liberty of having Niffty launder your clothes. I've pieced together a few outfits for you to wear in the meantime. I hope they are to your liking._

_-Alastor"_

I rummaged through the bag and did my best not to cringe. The clothes looked to be straight out of the 1930's. I was used to just throwing on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, but this bag was filled with lace dresses, stockings, skirts, and blouses. Not exactly what I would call my style, but I couldn't just hide in here until someone returned with my regular clothes, and Alastor _had_ gone out of his way to give these to me.

I settled on wearing a black lace dress with stockings to match. It seemed even my wings were taken into account, as there were openings in the back that they could easily slip through. Honestly, I almost preferred the dress to my t-shirts, because putting on a t-shirt, or anything that needed to be pulled over the head in order to wear, when you have _horns_ is fucking impossible!

Looking myself over in a mirror, I did my best to style my waist-length dreadlocks around the dated outfit. They didn't exactly go well with the "elegant southern belle" look, but I managed to make myself look a bit more put together by tying my mane back with a couple ropes of hair. I sifted through the various stones in my bag and found a necklace with a rose quartz charm. It wasn't much, but it helped make the outfit look a bit less like I was about to go to a funeral in the Great Depression, and I could make do with it until my wardrobe was stocked back up.

Clean and fully clothed, I decided to acquaint myself with my new bed. A restful night's sleep was hard to come by in Hell, especially on the south side of the city. An old innerspring mattress set on the ground was all I had known for the past three years, so to be met with a clean, satin comforter on a bed as soft as a cloud made every joint in my body scream with relief. My head sank so deep into the goose down pillow that I thought I'd be completely swallowed up by it.

With a hot shower and a comfy bed at my disposal, I almost didn't need redemption to feel like I was in Heaven.

One thing kept me tied to my current reality, though. Sitting next to me on top of the nightstand was a radio... an _old _radio. It may have just looked like a baby wooden jukebox with its cathedral-style design, but it was a lot more than that in my eyes. It was a security blanket... and a weapon. Most citizens in the south side of the city could be found slumped over their radios as they listened to dead air from the Radio Demon's station. Some said they did it out of habit, others were convinced that we'd all been hypnotized into doing it.

I did it for the comfort and security that came with knowing that the demon whose territory in which we all lived was still alive, because I knew that there were other demons out there that were a hell of a lot worse than Alastor.

I turned the radio on and immediately began fiddling with the dial. There was never a consistent frequency to tune into. It tended to change day to day, but I always knew when I'd found it when I hit a station that was silent with just the slightest hint of static. It was soothing in a way; all the comforts of home, without the dirt and dilapidated dens.

After dozing off for a few hours, I slipped on a pair of flats that had been nestled in my gifted clothing bag, and decided I would take the opportunity to get to know this hotel and its current occupants. If I knew anything about rehabilitation, it's that we'd have to learn to get along. It was always helpful for me to know who exactly I got on with, who I could potentially kill out of frustration, and vice versa. Vaggie already seemed easy enough to talk to. Angel Dust seemed to be too preoccupied with himself to care about much of anything. Niffty was always cleaning, and didn't seem to be all that interested in anyone unless they were a guy. The demon that was at the check-in counter, Husk, I believe, didn't seem to want anything to do with anyone at the hotel. And Alastor... well, something told me I was going to get thoroughly reacquainted with him soon enough.

I was about to step out of my room and into the hallway when a shape scurried past my door. Now, I had been in Hell long enough to see all manner of odd-looking demons and monsters, but there was no mistaking what this creature was as it snorted down the corridor; round and pink with brown patches, and a flat little nose.

A pig. Why was there a pig in the hotel? Why was there a pig in Hell at all, for that matter?

From the other end of the hallway came a shout, "Fat Nuggets!"

I almost couldn't contain my laughter as I watched the little potbelly wheel around and take off scampering back in the direction it had come from, only to jump into Angel Dust's waiting arms.

"'Fat Nuggets'?" I echoed.

Angel looked up at me, wrapping the pig up in his four, spindly arms. He shot me a suspicious look, though I wasn't sure if it was due to the pig or that I looked like I had stepped out of the 30s.

"You're not tryin' to eat Fat Nuggets, are you?" he inquired.

I chuckled, "Nah. The only bacon I eat is the type that's already been sliced."

"Okay, good. Because if you were, I'd fuck your whole world up!"

I didn't know in what context he meant by those words, and, frankly, I didn't want to know. I was just glad that I wasn't like some of the fucked up demons in Hell that ate anything with a face.

"I'm actually a huge animal lover," I said, "Though, I may have eaten a few of Fat Nuggets' relatives back in the day."

"Well, at least you're not like Alastor," Angel commented, "He's always trying to eat him!"

Now there's something I didn't expect, "I always took him for a vegetarian kind of guy."

"Ohh, no. Al's a Louisiana man. Food is everything to that motherfucker. He could probably tell ya what alligator tastes like."

Angel Dust hugged Fat Nuggets against his chest, "Speakin' of food, are ya hungry?"

I felt my stomach give a hard twist. I'd gotten so caught up in the luxury of my new shower and bed that I had forgotten about my hunger. I was starving.

"Al's got gumbo cooking," Angel continued, "He might be thin as a twig, but he sure does know how to cook!"

It was at that moment that I had a moment of understanding. Alastor wasn't _just_ the Radio Demon. He was a sinner. He used to be human. He had family, friends, and a life in the mortal world, once upon a time. He was just like the rest of us. Though he may be a legend in Hell, I couldn't help but wonder who he was before, what he did to end up in Hell, and how he came to possess such immense power. Everyone wanted to know his secret to leveling centuries-old kingdoms and taking out entities that'd had a stranglehold on their territories since the time of Christ, and only Alastor seemed to have access to that information.

* * *

"For fuck's sake! I can smell the Tabasco sauce from here!"

Vaggie's eye twitched irritably as she, Angel, Niffty, Husk, and I waited at our table for dinner to be served. It turned out that cozy rooms stocked with supplies weren't the only luxury the Hazbin Hotel provided. On the top floor of the building was a spacious dining area with a jukebox that played several hit songs spanning over the past century or so, and covered almost every genre out there. Jazz seemed to be the most prominent, though. There was even a stage where, I could only assume, freelancers could go up and perform during meals.

Vaggie wasn't wrong, though. The sharp smell of red pepper wafted through the air like a nauseous gas. I knew Louisiana dishes like gumbo and jambalaya had a kick to them, and I was a huge fan of spicy food, but even I thought the smell was a little excessive. Then again, what would a cold-blooded, northern Michigander like me know about southern cuisine?

"Just how _safe_ is Alastor's cooking?" I asked.

"It's actually not that bad," Angel stated.

"Yeah, it's not that bad when he isn't giving _some_ of us _explosive diarrhea_!" Husk growled. I had the misfortune of sitting next to the massive winged cat, or whatever he was, and he reeked of cheap booze. He refilled his glass and nudged it to me, "Here. Trust me when I say you don't wanna be sober for this."

I pushed the glass away, "I don't drink."

Husk scoffed, "Prude..."

I shrugged and took a sip of my water. The truth of the matter was I kept myself sober, not because I was a prude, but because alcohol messed with the accuracy of my visions and readings. I could handle stimulants like caffeine and nicotine, but most psychics and fortune tellers that I knew avoided them all for the same reason. Besides which, I was insanely hungry at this point. If Alastor's gumbo was going to burn the inside of my mouth and destroy my insides, so be it.

A short time later, Alastor came striding in with a massive pot of gumbo, humming a slow, jazzy tune as he approached. The spicy scent that had been floating in from the kitchen now filled the entire dining area. It was almost strong enough to make my eyes water.

"Geeze!" Vaggie grumbled, "How much of that hot sauce did you put into that concoction?"

"_Oh, only five_," Alastor replied cheekily.

"Five what? Teaspoons? Tablespoons?"

"_Ha! You're thinking too small, darlin'. No, I mean five bottles_!"

Husk sputtered into his glass, and I could have sworn I could see raging flames burning behind Vaggie's one good eye.

"I'll just eat whatever's in the trash," she huffed as she stood from the table, "And stop wasting ingredients! I don't care how many bottles of Tabasco sauce you can pull out of your ass. It's pointless if nobody wants to eat it!"

"I'm not dyin' today," Husk slurred, "All the cheap booze in Hell can't save me from that pot of slop!"

The two of them slipped out of the dining room, leaving me, Angel Dust, and Niffty behind.

"Well, mama didn't raise no pussy!" Angel yelled, slamming a fist against the table and holding out his bowl, "Fill 'er up, Al!"

Alastor obliged and ladled out a portion, only halfheartedly tossing a glance over his shoulder to acknowledge Vaggie and Husk's leaving. He served a portion to Niffty before fixing his gaze on me, his toothy grin widening in an almost challenging sort of way. It was as though he was daring me to get up and leave with the others. If I was being honest with myself, I didn't want it either. Second death by gumbo wasn't really how I wanted to go out, but my empty stomach had me willing to try anything at this point.

I lifted my bowl, and Alastor, in an almost gleeful manner, filled it to the brim. The dish was an angry red in color with all the hot sauce that had been put into it. My nose and throat itched just by having it sit in front of me. This was gonna suck, and odds were that my next trip to the toilet was going to suck even more, but at least I'd have _something _in my belly.

I shoveled a spoonful of stew into my mouth, and almost immediately gagged. For just a split second, it was good; tangy with juicy shrimp, tender chicken, sweet bell peppers, onion, and celery. But all of that faded away in seconds and was replaced with the fiery heat of a thousand chili peppers. I managed to choke down what I had in my mouth before releasing a cough. I finished off my water in a hurry, but even that did little to ease the burning.

Alastor seemed to take pity on me as he refilled the glass with a snap of his fingers, "_Too hot for you?_"

"Maybe just a bit," I choked out, desperately trying to wash the spice from my tongue.

Angel Dust turned to me, having wolfed down half of his bowl already, "Try savoring it a bit more. There's more stuff in there than just spice."

Niffty nodded in agreement. Angel did have a point. Before the heat kicked in, I could have eaten bowl after bowl filled with the flavors of the other ingredients, but the massive amounts of sauce Alastor had added could knock a bull off its feet.

I couldn't help but look over to the Radio Demon and watch as he ate. Even the way he was eating was elegant and mannerly, but it wasn't the refined way in which he ate his gumbo that I was focused on. It was the expression on his face, a look that was full of nostalgia. My earlier ponderings resurfaced.

Even the most evil of demons had a past they liked to look back on. The days in which we were all still alive were truly the best of times, and even though our most nostalgic of memories were hidden deep within our minds, all I needed was something linked to that nostalgia to be able to tap into it. And it was clear to me that the pot of gumbo Alastor had made was a key that had access to a happier time in his life.

Taking one last drink of water, I pushed the inferno raging in my mouth aside and took in another spoonful of the gumbo. I pushed past the burning and tried to dig into all the savory flavors in the stew. There was the shrimp, chicken, and vegetables, and the stock was riddled with fine herbs.

I closed my eyes and kept playing around with each one of the flavors until I lost myself in a world that was not my own. A golden light filled the darkness of my mind; sunlight peeking in from a window. The distant sound of a knife on a cutting board steadily grew clearer until I could make out two shapes standing in the light. A woman with long brunette hair was standing at a counter, chopping away at ingredients as the soup pot she had next to her on her stove came to a low boil.

Standing next to her, perched on the tips of his toes to look over the counter, was a little, scrappy, brown-haired boy. I could hear their distant voices, but couldn't make out the words. I didn't need to. I remembered doing the same thing with my mom when I was little; looking over the counter to see what was for dinner, studying everything my mother did that made a meal go from just a pile of unappealing raw ingredients to the finished product.

Eventually, the boy sat himself down at their dining room table, kicking his feet happily as he watched the woman through a pair of glasses that seemed to be just a little too big for him. He beamed as she came to him with a little bowl of gumbo, shooting her a smile that I was already all too familiar with. The smile of a baby Alastor.

I didn't catch a single word from the woman, but three little words came clear as day from the boy that made my heart melt.

_"Thank you, mama..."_

I was held in the vision for a few seconds longer before I was sucked back to consciousness. I could feel tears trickling down my cheeks, completely awed by the pure innocence of what I'd just seen. That's what always got me when I was given glimpses into the pasts of sinners; how innocent they once were, how pure and good their souls were before they became sinners. And how badly I wanted the days where I had that same innocence back again.

To see Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, one of the most powerful beings in Hell, as a child eagerly waiting for his mom to serve supper, and to see that he still had some sort of connection to those memory... It proved that no matter how evil or wicked the person, there was still an innocent, adorable child deep down inside of everyone.

"Hey, June?" I heard Angel Dust pipe up beside me, "You all right?"

I brushed my tears away with the back of my hand, looked up and smiled. My tongue may have still burned from the hot sauce, and my lips may have gone numb, but one thing most certainly had changed. The gumbo was absolutely delicious.


	3. Chapter 3: The Morning Frenzy

**Chapter 3: ****The Morning ****Frenzy**

There wasn't much of a distinction between day and night in Hell. The sky was always one shade of red or another, never bright enough to be considered day, but never getting dark enough to call it night. The best we sinners could do was watch Pentagram City's clock tower as it counted down days until the next cleanse. Call it torture, but it was the best we could do aside from keeping track of how many times we fell asleep.

After finishing dinner, I stripped myself of my vintage attire, and spent the rest of my time before bed watching TV. I never knew how interesting the news reports in Hell could be until I found myself watching 666 News. Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench were more entertaining to watch than any news channel I remembered watching in the past, though I felt pretty sorry for Tom as he was forced to deal with the abuse he took between segments.

I watched long enough to catch a cooking segment with Jeffery Dahmer, an exclusive interview with Lizzy Borden, and a breaking news report about an on-going turf war happening on the east side of the city before I finally decided to call it a night. Tomorrow marked my first day of rehabilitation, and Vaggie had promised that it wasn't going to be easy. On top of that, I'd officially be meeting the princess of Hell to discuss which course of action I'd be taking to work towards redemption.

Truth be told, I was thinking up a plan of my own. Not a plan on what I'd try to do to better myself, but on how to better Charlie. The one thing that had always remained consistent was how stubborn I could be. That stubbornness had only gotten worse over time. Sure, Charlie was Lucifer's daughter, but I wasn't the type to take orders from someone who wasn't sure of themselves. Taking the role of the south side's unofficial leader had taught me a lot, namely how to assert myself in an authoritative and diplomatic way, and worrying less about whether or not people liked me because of it.

If Charlie really was going to start rehabilitating sinners, she was going to have to accept that not everybody was going to like what she had to say, and reinforce consequences if rules were broken. That was something I could help her with, that is, if she was willing to accept it. I wanted to see her become a princess Hell would be proud to have, not a target that would immediately be overthrown when she did eventually take Lucifer's place as the realm's ruler.

When the clock tower struck midnight, I decided it was finally time for bed. I turned off the lights and adjusted the radio dial to Alastor's dead air station before crawling under the covers.

_"I figured you were the one that was tuning in, Miss Charms..."_

I practically leapt out of my skin, shooting straight up in my bed at the sudden voice that droned over my shoulder. It took me a second to grasp what had just happened. It was definitely Alastor's voice that I had heard come through the radio. The question was how the fuck did he know that _I _was the one tuning in?

_"No need to be alarmed, my dear," _he continued, _"I'll be signing off for the night here shortly, but let's get one thing straight between us..."_

Alastor's voice lowered into a malicious growl. The static that could normally be heard when it was silent was now replaced with a mix of electric humming and interference; sounds that were signature of the radio demon's presence. Sounds that demons around Hell had learned to run away from if they ever heard it.

"What do you want?" I asked shakily.

_"Ha... To see you **fail**, of course. To see you all fail. After all, you're in Hell for a reason, aren't you? A **very** good reason."_

I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as my feathers ruffled to the point of looking like a pair of blue, feathery pompoms. My tail lashed across the bed nervously. He wasn't wrong. Far from it. I wasn't in Hell just because I was a pagan, or a witch, or because I had visions. My actions on Earth had been cruel and selfish, though I didn't exactly realize it until it was too late.

But there was something about my being at the hotel that Alastor didn't know, that nobody here knew. I wasn't here to redeem myself. I had come here to find out if the Happy Hotel existed, and promptly return to the south side with word as to whether or not the rumors were true. I had just gotten caught up in the hotel's cause along the way. From the looks of things, so was everybody else that I had met today, and Alastor was no different.

"That's perfectly fine by me."

A high-pitched screech from a microphone blaring from the radio told me that the Radio Demon wasn't expecting that to be my response.

"Failing comes with trying," I continued, "It doesn't mean you've lost. I'm bound to fail at least a few times, but I'm not going to get anywhere if I don't try. So feel free to sit back and enjoy the show."

_"Ha! Ha! I hope your optimism won't be your undoing, darlin'. That's all the time I have for today, folks! Tune in next time to see-"_

"Good night, Al..." I grumbled, switching the radio off.

I flopped back down onto my bed. As exhausted as I was, that momentary broadcast was bound to keep me up for the rest of the night. Alastor wasn't here to try to better himself. He was just here for his own amusement. No wonder it felt so out of place to find him here when I had first walked into the hotel. But I knew. I had already seen firsthand. Alastor had a few good qualities in him that could be built upon if he gave it a chance; we all did.

If nothing else, there was still a small, innocent child sleeping deep within us all.

* * *

Morning came with very little sleep, as I expected. While I had managed to get at least a few hours of rest, I mostly spent my night either watching television, organizing my things, or looking out my window at the city as I smoked a few cigarettes. It was the first time I had bothered to stay up and watch the sun "rise" in Hell; meaning, I just watched the hands on the clock tower move bit by bit until it was seven o'clock.

Breakfast wasn't until nine, but the hotel was wide awake and bustling long before that. As I was roomed a few doors down from the dining room, the first sign of life I heard was a set of footsteps passing my door and entering said dining room. I could only assume it was Alastor, as several minutes later I caught a whiff of something sweet in the air, and the welcoming smell of a pot of coffee brewing. At about 7:15, the floor under my feet started vibrating to the rhythm of an upbeat tune, which was followed shortly by enraged shouts coming from Vaggie and Husk. During that commotion, Niffty sped into my room without so much as a knock, performing the duties of an average housekeeper in the blink of an eye.

Thoroughly awake by this point, I snatched the little cyclopean girl by the back of her dress and hoisted her up.

"Put me down!" she screeched, "I gotta get everything clean before breakfast!"

I bared my teeth and locked eyes with her, "You'll do just fine as my morning meal."

Niffty giggled, clearly unperturbed by my threat, "You don't scare me, silly. I know all the cannibals in the city, and you sure aren't one of them!"

"I was hoping this would teach you some kind of lesson..."

Niffty's eye looked me over, and I shivered. I was in nothing but my bra and underwear.

"Don't be naked, then, next time," she sassed.

Damn, for a girl that looked like she was only a child, she sure did have an attitude!

Begrudgingly, I put her down and let her continue her work.

"So you and Alastor are friends?" I piped up.

"Oh, friends is such a loose word," Niffty replied, "More like eye candy that I can't have, than anything. Oh, my gosh! Your bathroom is a mess! Are you always this untidy?"

"Eye candy? You mean you like him, but he doesn't like you?"

"No, no, silly! He's very handsome, and I'd be _all over that shit_! But Alastor doesn't want to be with anybody."

My brow furrowed, "You mean Al's asexual?"

Niffty let out a sigh, "You ask too many questions. Look, I don't know much about the fella. Nobody does. That's just the way he likes it."

So the Radio Demon was a closed book after all. Just a charming spectacle with a terrifying reputation. It wasn't like me to want to pick people apart until I knew everything there was to know about them, but almost all of my abilities seemed to be seeking him out. My dreams had shown me this hotel, the same hotel he happened to be at. The sprite I had followed had taken on the form of a red deer. Alastor _was_ a red deer. His gumbo had given me a glimpse into his past. _Something_ about him made my essence seek him out. It couldn't just be that I was a demon living in his territory, so what was it?

Niffty was about to zip out of the room, but she skidded to a halt and paused for a moment before turning to look at me.

"You know, if you want to get to know him so badly, I'm sure all you'd have to do is ask him what you wanna know. I wouldn't hold your breath, though. He's more likely to give you a sarcastic remark than useful information."

With that, Niffty took off and zipped into the next room, leaving me with just my ever increasing number of ponderings to keep me company. With how much energy he had, I couldn't imagine Alastor having much of a filter. The way he spoke to me through the radio proved that much. Could the reason why the Radio Demon was shrouded in such mystery be because nobody had bothered to ask him questions about himself? There weren't all that many people who wanted to _see _him, let alone talk to him. Was it that easy to get him to open up to others?

* * *

My mind swam with confusion as I tried to take in the scene that was going on in the dining room. The commotion had started shortly before I finished getting dressed, now looking more like a fifty year old business woman in my dated shin-length, floral-patterned skirt and white blouse. It had started quietly with some light conversations happening between the others. Charlie must have shown up at some point, because I kept hearing another female voice that I wasn't familiar with yet chat excitedly with Vaggie.

Within the span of a couple of minutes, however, the quiet chatter turned into shouting, mainly from Vaggie, Husk, and Angel Dust. Vaggie and Angel seemed to be at each other's throats again, while Husk seemed to be directing his temper towards someone or something else entirely. I joined the party just as tableware and sharp objects were being thrown.

Vaggie was armed with a spear as she steadily marched up to Angel, who had a table tipped over and was using it as a shield. What I could make of their nearly unintelligible screaming, Vaggie was pissed off about being woken up by his music this morning, and had already gotten her day off to a bad start with a few too many selfish remarks and sexist comments. Angel was armed with a few forks and a couple of butter knives as he cowered behind the only thing separating him from the raging moth demon's weapon.

Husk was hunched over a table in a corner, nursing a hangover... with another bottle of cheap booze. He looked rough, with his fur tossed in a mess and bags under his eyes. He glared irritably at everyone in the room, likely regretting getting out of bed, and wishing everyone else would take the ruckus somewhere else. I couldn't help but notice he was mostly directing his annoyance towards Alastor, though.

And Alastor, with a pot of coffee in one hand and a mug filled to the brim with the piping-hot blackish brown liquid in the other, seemed to be enjoying one hell of a caffeine buzz. I honestly never thought I'd see someone so full of energy that they moved by sheer vibration alone, but here we were as I watched the Radio Demon seemingly skid about on his heels and toes. He barely managed to keep the coffee he held in their respective containers as he moved. His eyes had turned into radio dials, which would have been terrifying to look had it not been for the needles, which were moving back and forth in the same way windshield wipers did during a downpour; just as frantic with each eye moving differently from the other. Alastor's grin was wider than I'd ever seen it, exposing the inky black gums that were typically hidden behind his lips.

There were only two people in the room who seemed to keep their heads on straight as they watched the chaos unfold around them. Niffty was sat at Husk's table, eating a fluffy powdered pastry, and a girl with blonde hair had stopped short of the door, looking pretty overwhelmed as she watched the others in the room.

I strode up beside her and crossed my arms, "Is this a regular thing?"

The girl let out a sigh, "Yeah, they're not usually this bad though."

It was then that she bothered to look up at me. It took me all of a second to see how much of a pure, innocent little bean this demon princess was. With her bright eyes and rosy cheeks, she looked like childhood innocence incarnated.

Her face lit up as her eyes met mine, "Are you the new guest Vaggie told me about?"

I stuck out my hand, "Juniper Charms."

Rather than a handshake, I was crushed in an enthusiastic hug as she let out a delighted squeal. Her strength was nothing to sneeze at, as I felt my ribs creak, and the air was knocked straight out of my lungs.

"Ch-Charlotte!" I coughed out, "Suffocating... not breathing!"

"Oops!" Charlie quickly released her arms from around my waist, allowing me to take a breath, "Sorry. I just get so excited when we get a new guest."

I brushed myself off and shot her a smile, "You're fine. Everybody's been pretty hospitable in your stead so far."

It wasn't a total lie. Alastor had been the one to give me a warm welcome, offer clothes, and cook the meals. Angel and I had a moment when Fat Nuggets walked past my door. Vaggie had been the one to explain things and show me where everything was in the hotel. Husk had offered me a drink when he suspected the gumbo would be too much for me. Niffty had cleaned off my boots the moment I walked in. Now, if the fights between Vaggie, Angel, and Alastor could be tamed, Husk slowed down with his drinking problem, and Niffty calmed down with her neat-freakishness and semi sexist remarks, rehabilitation would be underway.

Before Charlie could go on, Alastor juddered up to us, coffee pot and mug still grasped tightly in his claws.

"_Good mornin', ladies!_" he said excitedly, the quality of his audio diminishing due to his highly caffeinated state, "_How are you two doing on this fine, fine day? Care for cup o' joe? It's piping hot, freshly made!_"

I was getting a caffeine high just looking at him, "How much of that stuff have you had today?"

"_Oh, just one pot, five pots, 'round about twenty pots of coffee within this past hour!_"

Alastor already talked a hundred miles a minute when he _wasn't _caffeinated up. Now he was on the brink of talking like a full-blown auctioneer! I hooked him by the collar of his red pinstriped coat, and managed to get a feel of his heart rate over his shirt.

"His heart is vibrating! For fuck's sake!"

Charlie carefully took the coffee mug and pot out of his hands and led him to a nearby table, "Maybe you should sit down for a moment to get yourself calmed down a bit."

Yeah, that only worked for, like, half a second before Mister Overly Caffeinated Radio Demon was shaking in his chair and immediately got back up to burn off some of the excess energy. He wound up getting a little too close to Vaggie, who hit him over the head with a platter of beignets so hard that the antlers on Alastor's head left two impressions in the metal, but not even that seemed to faze him.

I took the liberty of taking the mug that Alastor had already poured, but only managed to take one sip before being punched in the mouth by the coffee's bitterness.

"I don't wanna know how many scoops of coffee grounds he put into the filter before he brewed this," I commented, "This is straight up swill!"

Charlie clapped her hands loudly, trying to get the room's attention, "Excuse me! Could everyone just settle down for a minute?"

Her tone was cautious, as though addressing the room would warrant a chair to the face. Although, with all the negative energy rising up through the air, I was surprised a chair _hadn't _been tossed, yet. Charlie tried a second and third time, to no avail. Vaggie was closing in on Angel Dust, and Husk now had Alastor in a headlock in an attempt to keep him still.

"Why won't they listen to me?" Charlie asked, my heart twisting at the sadness and frustration in her voice.

"Mind if I give it a try?" I inquired.

"Go ahead."

I took a few steps into the room, focusing on the chaotic energy in the air. I felt something boil inside me, something dark that was climbing its way to the surface from deep within my core. I raised a hand, and with a snap of my fingers, the chaotic energy was shattered with an audible boom. Within seconds, the room fell silent, and all eyes were on me.

"_Sit_!"

The word came out of my mouth in a venomous tone that I seldom used, but it always made an impact. Within seconds, the dining room was back to its natural setup and people were sat down at a table. Even Alastor seemed to have snapped out of his buzz, and was sat with his legs elegantly crossed in a chair, though his eyes had yet to go back to their original state.

"That was so cool!" Charlie beamed, bouncing on her toes excitedly, "You've got to show me how to do that sometime!"

"I might be able to teach you a trick or two," I stated before taking my seat with the others.

Husk scooted away from me as I sat down beside him, "What the hell kind of voodoo shit was that?"

"It was a combination of me breaking apart the negative energy in the air, and being incredibly annoyed," I explained, "It's called witchcraft."

The bewildered look on Husk's face hinted towards this being his first encounter with a witch, "You won't turn me into a toad, will ya?"

I laughed, "No. Transformation isn't one of my strong suits."

With the room now brought back to a state of calm, Charlie seized the opportunity to climb up onto the stage to address the room.

"It seems you're all familiar with our new guest," she started, "Juniper, was it?

"That's me," I replied, "You guys can just call me June, if that's easier."

"It's lovely to meet you. Do you mind coming up here and introducing yourself?"

Some part of me wanted to say no, as I had already been introduced to everybody already. However, Husk's reaction to discovering that I was a witch made me realize that the others in the hotel might not know as much about me as I already knew about them. Not to mention that I had only just met Charlie, so I really only knew her through the eyes of the public; a whole lot of rumors, assumptions, and disrespect. How was that fair? It'd be like having everybody else here make assumptions about me just because I was from the south side.

I stood up from the table and climbed the small set of stairs up onto the stage. Charlie stepped aside and allowed me to take the mic.

"Hello," I started, "As you all know, I'm Juniper Charms. I come from the south side of Pentagram City, and have been a denizen of Hell for three years. I'm a solitary witch and a fortune teller."

"Do you mind telling us why you decided to come to our little hotel?" Charlie asked.

At that moment, as if it was almost convenient for him, Alastor snapped back to attention from his caffeine rush, and fixed his eyes on me. His eyes narrowed and his smile broadened. I could tell all at once what he was thinking. He hadn't forgotten about the little stunt he pulled last night, and I was sure he was eager to know why exactly I was here, possibly gauging just how serious I was about wanting to redeem myself; how easy I'd be to break.

"I'm here on behalf of the south side," I admitted, "A short time ago, I started seeing the Happy Hotel appear in my dreams. When I started hearing about it in passing, I decided to set out and discover if my dreams and these rumors were true."

"Wait, so you only came here to check us out?" Vaggie inquired, "You told us yesterday that you wanted to give this place a chance."

"I do. How can I tell the rest of the south side that they don't have to wallow in rubble and have a real chance at going to Heaven if I can't prove to them that it's possible?" I lowered my head, thinking about the pathetic state I arrived at the hotel in, and how the rest of my community was still living in that state, "Ever since I arrived in Hell, I've always tried to use my abilities to help others. This isn't any different."

Charlie approached me with a small smile, her eyes full of hope. It was like my presence was a breath of fresh air in the messy smog caused by the others to her.

"I think you're off to a good start. Wanting to help that many people however you can is a wonderfully redeeming quality."

* * *

**_Author's Note 12/23/19_**

_I heard somewhere that Alastor likes black coffee. As you can see, I decided to have a little fun with that bit of information._

_This is probably going to be the last chapter I'll be able to get out before Christmas, and I might be able to get out one or two more chapters and clean up the first two a bit more before the new year, depending on how work goes and how much sleep I decide to get._

**_-BlueRaven 666_**


	4. Chapter 4: Day One

**Chapter 4: Day One**

"Rule number one: no fighting!"

The six of us were lined up in front of the stage as Vaggie, Angel Dust, Alastor, Husk, Niffty, and I listened to Charlie fire off the list of rules she expected us to follow. I could tell that I was the only one taking this seriously, but Vaggie also looked like she felt pretty bad about completely throwing that first rule out the window.

Angel looked like a stubborn teenager that was getting the same lecture for the billionth time, with his arms crossed and an annoyed scowl on his face. Of course, I felt like he should already know better. He and Vaggie had been here longer than the rest of us. He knew how things were supposed to work in this hotel. He said that he had been clean for two weeks, but I guess even that didn't count for shit, since he was on crack throughout most of that time.

Husk wasn't having any of it, screaming that Alastor had only bibbidi-boppidi-booed him to the hotel so he could man the check-in counter. I guess there was a loophole that the Radio Demon had failed to mention: everybody that came to stay at the hotel, no matter the reason, had to be on their best behavior, which meant that the foul-mouthed, gambling-addicted, drunkard cat demon was now bound by the same rules as the rest of us. If it bothered him so much, why didn't he just leave? Sure, Al was the one who brought him aboard, but it wasn't like Husk was sitting in a prison cell. He could walk out and leave if he wanted to, so why stay?

Niffty seemed pretty invested in what Charlie had to say, watching her with the same wide-eyed attention as a child that was sat in front of a TV. Apart from her insatiable thirst for men, and off remarks about women, I saw her as the most innocent out of all of us, next to Charlie. I was willing to bet that she'd be the first one to redeem herself and go to Heaven.

And Alastor was just being, well, Alastor; standing in attention with the same cheeky grin he always had on his face and his arms folded behind his back. He was the assistant manager of this place, but even I had to wonder just how seriously he planned on taking these rules, or if he was just going to follow his own. Maybe he planned on trying to sabotage our rehabilitation, hindering our progress by causing us to fail and fall all the way back to step one. None of us were in Hell because we were good people, and the Radio Demon was so infamous that rehabilitation looked to be just about impossible for him, but maybe if he was willing to try... Maybe, just _maybe_ he could do it.

"Rule number two," Charlie continued, pacing as if she was a drill sergeant dealing with a group of new recruits, "No pranks. The point of this is to do away with the violence, and create a peaceful and positive atmosphere for everyone. Rule number three: no problematic language."

"Ya hear that, Husky?" Angle Dust piped up, nudging the the cat demon in the ribs with two of his elbows, "No more potty mouth."

Husk's face twisted into an expression of unbridled rage as he turned towards him, "Ya hear that... _punk_?! No more sexual comments!"

"He's right, Angie," Charlie said, "From now on, it's clean language _only_!"

I've never seen someone shut up faster in my life. With all the porn magazines I saw him with and how much he tended to flirt with Husk throughout the day, giving up sex was going to be like giving up a cocaine addiction... Which Angel also had, apparently.

Even I was able to admit that I threw around four-letter words a lot more than I should. Even if one came to Hell having never uttered a single swear word in their life, profanity was a major part of the language down here. It didn't take long for those who didn't swear to start dropping fuck, shit, and ass into every sentence. As I really wasn't one for fighting or pranks, it looked like getting my foul mouth under control would be my biggest challenge thus far.

"Rule number four," Charlie carried on, "no addictive substances. That means no drugs, no alcohol, and no tobacco products. Niffty, Al, the two of you will be going to everyone's rooms later today and confiscating everything you find."

I spoke too soon...

"You can count on us!" Niffty responded excitedly, "You hear that, ladies? All of your cigarettes, booze, and drugs are going bye-bye!"

Oh, boy... No more cigarettes. That was going to be a tough one. That addiction had followed me into the afterlife, so I'd been a frequent smoker for well over seven years, now. Quitting cold turkey was going to suck major ass! But rules were rules, and they all seemed to be pretty straightforward so far.

"Do coffee addictions count?" Husk suddenly inquired, glowering at Alastor.

"_Ha ha ha! Coffee is not an addictive substance, my good friend!" _Alastor laughed, _"It's perfectly safe, and gets the world going every day! Coffee is fuel for the body!_"

"Actually, caffeine was recognized as an addictive substance in 2012," I pointed out, "So I think it counts."

His smile might have been there, but I could see the shock reflecting in Alastor's eyes. For a split second, the quality of his audio cleared up, "These are _strange_ times we're living in, folks..."

Charlie twiddled her fingers as she thought it over.

"Well, admittedly I do enjoy drinking a couple of frappuccinos every day, myself," she said, "I'll make an exception for coffee, just so long as it's drunk in moderation. Everybody's allowed two cups per day. Does that sound fair?"

I didn't think it was possible to see the moment when a person physically shut down, but Alastor had; his shoulders falling slightly, and the red glow in his eyes vanishing like someone had turned off a light switch. He tried to negotiate by asking if the amount could be increased to a full pot, but Charlie stuck with only allowing two, plain-Jane eight ounce cups. Really, though... Even I thought drinking more than a single pot of coffee in a day was excessive. Alastor really did have one hell of a caffeine addiction.

"Rule number five: help each other out," Charlie continued on, "If you see that someone is struggling, help them however you can."

These rules were all very well and good. Even I figured it wouldn't be much of a challenge to abide by them. But even with all of these rules in place, nobody seemed to be following them. Vaggie was always one offense away from almost murdering somebody; either Angel or Alastor. Angel Dust was still out doing sexual favors for others around Hell every day. Husk was never seen without a bottle of whiskey in his claws. Alastor liked to tease everyone that he saw as an easy target. Maybe the rules weren't being put into effect until after this meeting, but that felt pretty unlikely in the sense that they had already been thought up and written down.

"I have a question," I piped up, "What happens if we break the rules? What's our punishment going to be? And what rewards and incentives are there for good behavior apart from redemption?"

I could see Charlie's faux confidence slip away with each question, "Well..."

"Well, rent is free so long as you stay clean, for one," Vaggie stated, "And you'll be forced to pay up ten dollars for every day you've sinned."

Okay, that was a start, but I wanted to push the envelope as much as possible to get a feel for what I had to work with.

"Another question. What if someone pulls an Angel, and breaks the rules behind your back?"

"Well, if we find out, we'll--"

_If_ they found out. Key word: _if_. Demons were sly creatures. If they didn't want somebody to know about something, a demon would do everything in there power to make sure nobody found out about it. Angel had already gotten away with it once. Who's to say he wasn't going to do it again? Who's to say _anyone _in this room was going to listen to these rules? What was there to stop them?

"And I'm sure witchcraft falls under the catagory of forbidden activities," I added, "But what about the things that can't be controlled, like my visions?"

Charlie wrung her hands anxiously, "We'd... We'd be willing to make an exception for--"

"Hey!" Angel shouted, "My daily craving for marchin' powder and dick is something I can't control! What about me?!"

And just like that, everybody was in an uproar. Husk was doing his best to justify his drinking problem, while Angel Dust argued over his sexual tendencies. Alastor looked on with a bemused expression while Niffty stood beside him quietly, rocking on her feet as the room slowly started falling into chaos once more.

This is exactly what I was afraid of. The concept behind the hotel's cause was a fantastic ambition, but it was one that didn't align with the nature of Hell. The entire realm was filled with the worst of the worst; people that took pleasure in fighting, killing, stealing, and abusing. If Charlie was going to redeem a single sinner, she was going to need some help, and _not_ from the likes of Al or Vaggie.

I stepped forward and clambered up onto the stage. All it took was clearing my throat to get the room's attention and silence the arguments. Clearly, none of them wanted to see the little stunt I'd pulled during breakfast again.

"Charlie," I started, turning to face the flustered demon princess, "There are three figures of authority that I see in this hotel. Alastor might be the assistant manager of this establishment, but let's face it. He and Vaggie mix about as well as vinegar and bleach."

"You can say that again..." I heard Vaggie mutter under her breath, shooting the Radio Demon a glare.

"_Ha! If you smiled a bit more, we wouldn't have an issue!_" Alastor teased.

I didn't think it was possible to see someone with dark grey skin go red in the face with rage, but it happened as Vaggie took a threatening step towards Alastor with her fists clenched and teeth bared.

"Getting pissy won't solve anything," I continued, stopping Vaggie in her tracks, "If anything it'll just serve as fuel for the others. It's probably why Alastor picks on you all the time, and why Angel doesn't take things as seriously as he should. They just want to get a reaction from you, and there aren't any consequences for it."

Charlie frowned, "But... I don't want to be mean to anyone."

"Not mean. Assertive. That's your problem. You're too much of a pushover, and everybody in Hell knows it. As Lucifer's daughter, the princess of Hell, and heir to the throne, people should give a shit about what you have to say, and take it seriously, but they don't! That's going to be bad news for you when you _do_ eventually take the throne. Don't you actually want a say on how things are run in this realm?"

"Of course!"

I smiled, "Then, as the south side's unofficial leader, I would like to help you learn to be more assertive."

Charlie's eyes widened and her face broke out into an eager grin, "Yes! Yes, _please_! Please, teach me!"

I crossed my arms, and shot her a smug look, "Make me."

And just like that, the smile was gone, "What?"

"You're the princess, and I'm just one of your asshole subjects. For this scenario, I'm not going to do something for you, taking valuable time out of _my_ day, just to help you out of the goodness of my heart. Give me an order, and make it one I'll feel inclined to follow."

I took notice of Vaggie standing below me, who was now glaring at me with something fierce. It looked like she wasn't at all pleased with how I was treating her friend.

Charlie took a breath as she straightened her spine, "Juniper Charms, as princess of Hell, and heir to the throne... I hereby order that you help teach me how to be more assertive... Until you think I'm ready."

I could have sworn I heard a cricket chirping somewhere in the background. The order had started off strong, but began to waver towards the end. I guess it would be too much to ask for somebody so sweet and innocent to do it perfectly on her first try.

"We'll work on it..."

* * *

I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to ease the throbbing headache that had built over the course of the past hour. I was already itching for a cigarette, but the pack that I had gotten the day before had already been taken away before I could reach my room after breakfast. Curse that little Niffty for being so fucking fast!

Now, I was stuck helping Charlie work on building up her confidence with Vaggie and Alastor while everybody else went about their own business. We had already made some revisions to the rules and set up an official reward and punishment system that could be used depending on which rules were followed, and which ones were broken. Now, it was just a matter of getting Charlie to be less of a doormat for the hotel's residents to walk all over.

"Again."

Charlie let out a huff as she stood toe to toe with Alastor. Out of curiosity, I had asked them how the princess had managed to get the Radio Demon to help her with running the hotel, and _behave_ while doing it, without making a deal with him. It turned out she had simply ordered him to help... in a pathetically cautious sort of way. Had Alastor been anyone else, they would have laughed at her and walked away. The only reason Alastor listened to her was because he liked her positive attitude, and had his own agenda on top of that.

So, for the past hour, I had them reenact the order Charlie gave him to help with the hotel, giving her a few pointers along the way. After all, if she could maintain her composure and come across as strong and confident in the face of one of the most notorious demons in Pentagram City, she could stand up to anyone.

"As princess of Hell, and heir to the throne," Charlie began again, "I hereby order that you help us with this hotel."

Admittedly, she was getting better. We had eliminated any parts that Alastor could take advantage of for his own musings, and her tone had strengthened considerably, with less hesitation in her voice than there was the first couple of times. But she still wasn't one hundred percent.

"What do you think, Al?" I asked, "On a scale from one to ten."

"_I'd give it a solid eight_!" the Radio Demon announced before turning on his heel and striding towards the door to the office.

"Where are you going?" Vaggie inquired.

"_Nature calls, ladies! I shall return momentarily!_"

I guess that made sense. I would have to wonder where he put those twenty pots of coffee from this morning if he didn't have to take a leak. At least he had calmed back down to his usual self.

"This is so stupid!" Vaggie groaned, slumping in her chair, "Yeah, Charlie needs to work on building her confidence up a little bit, but making her rehearse lines isn't the way to go about it."

She wasn't wrong. Sure, it thoroughly prepared her for _this_ particular scenario, but what about when she was confronted by someone on the streets? What if she had to give someone an order back at home? What if someone was blatantly disrespectful towards her to her face? Not all demons were inclined to sit still and listen to authority like Alastor. There had to be something I was missing.

"Charlie, I know what your parents are like," I said, "Your father is one of the roughest, toughest demons out there who doesn't take any amount of disrespect. Your mother, kind and caring though she may be, can crush a few spines simultaneously if she needs to. Where is your share of their confidence?"

Charlie's expression fell into a look of hopelessness, "Well, my dad has never really approved of any of my decisions in life. That includes this hotel."

I leaned forward in my seat, intrigued, "Do tell."

"He thinks trying to rehabilitate sinners is a waste of my time. He thinks nobody in Hell is going to want to put in the effort to be redeemed. If I don't learn to accept the way things are in this realm, he says I'll always be a total failure."

"Then again, you're also talking about the same person that revels in the chaos and destruction that comes each year with the extermination," Vaggie piped up, "He thinks that just because he got booted out of Heaven, there's no way to get back in."

I didn't know Lucifer personally, but every one I've met who did know him all said the same thing. He was a total asshole that got off on the torment and suffering of others. Charlie was the exact opposite. So much as a frown made her want to bring world peace. How could a monster like Lucifer father someone with such purity in their heart?

"What about your mother?" I asked, "What does she think about all of this?"

Charlie gave a small smile, "She actually likes the idea. It's because of her that I was able to open this hotel in the first place. No matter what I've wanted out of life, or what I wanted to achieve, she's always been there to support me."

Lilith. I always thought she looked like a nice lady. Of course she wasn't one who could be walked all over so easily, either. Rumor has it that she actually scares Lucifer shitless. That was the image I wanted for Charlie; sweet, caring, and still somehow one hundred percent badass.

"We can take a break for today," I stated as I got up from my chair and stretched, "Right now, I have some concerns about my rehabilitation."

"Right," Charlie said, taking a seat across from me, "Like I said, we'll be willing to make an exception for your visions, as well as any abilities that you don't have any control over. Just so long as you don't use those abilities in a way that hurts anyone."

"Well, I don't think you have anything to worry about there. I always use my abilities to help out others."

"So how'd you end up in Hell, then?" Vaggie asked, crossing her arms, "Even fortune tellers have gotten to go to Heaven, so long as they didn't hex people, or partake in sacrificial rituals. You must have done _something _bad to warrant being sent down here."

I was sure that in that moment, I was white as a ghost. The truth of the matter was that I hadn't always used my abilities to help others; quite the opposite. I was a selfish and spiteful human. I knew what it took to get my way, how to summon demons, which spells could make another person bend to my will, and which potions could turn mortals into mindless beasts. The only legacy I left behind on Earth was a trail of dead bodies and a deserted town.

"I became full of myself," I explained, "I thought I was unmatched. My spells and potions probably killed no less than sixteen people, and led an entire community to just up and leave an entire town behind. I don't suppose either of you have ever heard of the Ada Witch, have you?"

Charlie and Vaggie exchanged a look of shock, "No. Can't sat that we have."

"She's probably the biggest legend in Michigan. She trained me."

"So... what happened, then?" Vaggie questioned, "Did one of your spells go wrong, or something?"

"Actually, it was a train that did me in."

Charlie's eyes widened in horror, "You were hit by a train?!"

I nodded. I remembered the day of my death like it was yesterday. I had been squatting in one of the abandoned houses in my neighborhood when I saw the sprite. It didn't have anywhere near as clear of a visage as the sprite I had followed to the Hazbin Hotel, but I was still able to see it. Despite every warning I had ever read about imps, sprites, and demons, I thought it was there to lead me to some grand discovery; maybe ingredients that I needed for my spells and potions, or maybe to a vast fortune. Either way, I had been so blinded by greed and my own ambition that I didn't notice when it had led me two miles away from the safety of my home, and onto the railroad. I never even heard the warning bells or saw the blinking red lights when I approached the tracks.

The last thing I remember hearing was the blaring of the train's horn, as well as the "Oh, fuck!" feeling that hit me when I bothered to look up and realized that I was bathed in the train's headlights. I don't recall feeling any pain, but I manifested in Hell with the wind completely knocked out of my lungs.

"That's horrible!" Charlie exclaimed.

I shrugged, "Whoever found my body is a lucky bastard. They got to tell the world that I was finally gone for good."

"So what changed? You were clearly a bad person, but you somehow managed to turn over a new leaf and started using your abilities to help people. You're so nice! The entire south side of Pentagram City looks up to you! What changed?"

"Apparently, it took getting hit by a train to knock some sense into me. I hate the person I used to be, and I never want to go down that road again."

Charlie ran up to me and wrapped me in another suffocating hug, though I could tell she meant it to be a comforting one. Vaggie looked at me with sadness in her eyes. It probably wasn't the first sad sob story she'd heard, but I could tell it had gotten to her. I hadn't meant for them to take pity on me over my story, just for them to see that I wasn't a lost cause and that there could be some hope for me.

Then again, with how evil I was in my past life, with the massive shadow I left looming over Michigan, was I _really_ worthy of redemption?


	5. Chapter 5: Trust Issues

**WARNING!**

**This chapter contains scenes of sexual assault and attempted rape! If such content upsets you, please stop reading after the story division line!**

**-BlueRaven 666**

* * *

**Chapter 5: Trust Issues**

The rest of my day was, for lack of a better word, total shit. I wasn't taking being cut off from my cigarettes well, leaving me in a state of restlessness and irritability. It almost made me willing to pay up the ten bucks, if only to smoke until I had weened myself off of them completely. I knew how my addictions worked, though. I'd manage to get myself almost to the point of being able to quit, only to relapse back to where I had been before I started. Maybe quitting cold turkey would be good for me, and teach me better self-control and discipline.

At least I wasn't alone in my suffering. Niffty had returned with one hell of a stash that she found in Angel Dust's room. I had to refrain from making a comment about the wide variety of dildos, bottles of lubricant, porn movies and magazines, and bags of cocaine. And I thought _I _had a problem! Angel threw a fit, crying crocodile tears as he begged to at least be allowed to have one of each item, but was denied. He didn't have the money to cover himself for the day, and the only way he was going to get it was by breaking rule number six, which covered the ban of any and all sexual activity.

Husk now sat behind an ordinary-looking check-in counter. The shelf of liquor that had been sitting behind him was now gone, and Alastor had confiscated no less than eight bottles of booze from his room. The massive cat demon spent the rest of the day one nudge away from snapping at the nearest person. Honestly! There had to be something he liked to do besides drinking and gambling his money away!

Charlie started trying to think up ways to put the kibosh on Alastor's coffee abuse. He was always the first one in the dining area in the morning, usually long before anyone else was awake. Unless someone was up before him and was there to supervise while he was making coffee and breakfast, there wouldn't be any guarantees that he'd follow the two-cup limit. Alastor was plotting to work around Charlie's little rule; I could see it in his eyes. Maybe he would stick to the two-cup rule by sneaking in two 32 ounce cups, instead. Or he'd overload the filter with a pound of coffee grounds to ensure he got his fix. The caffeine crash was going to hit him eventually, one way or another, and it would hit him him harder than a pile of bricks. So we were either going to find him curled up somewhere, sound asleep, or he was going to find some sort of alternative to get more caffeine in his system.

I spent the majority of my day working with Vaggie to help her control her temper. Most of it stemmed from a lack of trust in the others. Of course, Angel Dust had already abused that trust, as well as Charlie's generosity, multiple times, so I was able to understand her lack of patience with the spider demon. What I didn't understand was her seething hatred for Alastor.

"What has he ever done to you?" I inquired, joining her in her room with Charlie for lunch, "It seems like all Al has to do is look at you funny, and you want to punch him in the throat."

Vaggie quirked a brow and leaned forward on the bed.

"He's shoved me, slapped me, and he's been insulting me every day since he arrived here!" she snarled, "He thrives on seeing lesser demons like us powerless before him."

"You threw a knife at him for simply welcoming me to the hotel..."

"Well... You looked scared, and it looked like he was going to spend at least an hour throwing sales pitches at you before finally letting you check in."

I had to refrain from rolling my eyes. I hadn't expected to see one of the most infamous demons in all of Hell greeting me when I walked in the door. Not to mention that he owned the territory I lived on, as well as the fact that he hadn't made the best of first impressions when we first met. _Of course _I looked scared!

"You've gotta start having a little more faith, Vaggie," Charlie stated calmly, resting a hand on the moth demon's shoulder, "Maybe offer him a smile and a compliment sometime. I bet it would make his day."

Vaggie scowled and crossed her arms, "I'd rather shove nails through my tongue."

Sheesh! Tough crowd! Not even Husk gave Al as hard of a time as Vaggie did, and it almost seemed like he straight up hated the fucker. The only wrong I'd seen the Radio Demon do in this hotel since my arrival was scare the living shit out of me by speaking through my radio. Everything else just looked like harmless mischief to me, but there didn't seem to be any way of convincing Vaggie that Alastor was anything but evil.

"Be straight with me, Vaggie," I piped up, "Why exactly don't you trust him?"

"He's a dangerous deal-maker," she replied, "He told us outright that he only wants to help Charlie run the hotel so he can watch demons fail as they try to better themselves. He doesn't believe in our cause. He's helping us along now, but for how long? How long is he going to provide his charismatic crutch before he pulls it out from underneath someone? What if we _never _succeed because of him?_That's _why I don't trust him."

So Alastor _was _being straightforward with me when he said he wanted to see me fail last night. At least that added up. Lies took all forms in Hell. They could be used to lead someone into a false sense of security, or turn someone's life into a living nightmare. I couldn't blame Vaggie for distrusting him after she'd been told something like that. Heck, I wouldn't have either.

"I still think you should try being nice to him," Charlie said, "It breaks my heart that you feel the need to get upset and constantly yell at him to get your point across."

"Yeah," I chimed in, "If anything, you can give him the benefit of the doubt; interact civilly with him while keeping your guard up."

Vaggie's expression fell, clearly torn between our words and her own instincts. She must have endured something traumatic to hold so little trust. Getting past something like that was more difficult than just saying 'let it go' or 'get over yourself', and I didn't expect it to happen overnight, but I wanted to see her have the confidence to put down her spear and smile a little more. She deserved that kind of confidence.

* * *

I went to bed in the biggest funk I'd ever been in. I felt like I was at crackhead level with my withdrawals, frantically looking in vain for my cigarette pack and lighter, or any source of nicotine that could give me my fix; to no avail. It took hours of tossing and turning until I finally wore myself out enough to doze off, and even then I wasn't given the luxury of a restful night's sleep as I found myself caught in the grip of another vision.

The darkness of sleep peeled back to reveal a bustling bar. Women strutted about in dazzling flapper dresses as men in creased and cuffed trouser pants and plain shirts stood close by with their drinks, tipping their hats to the ladies as they passed by. I no longer felt so out of place, as everyone here looked to be straight out of the 1930s.

Out of all the people in the bar, however, my attention was directed to an individual sat by himself at a corner table with a mug of coffee. I didn't recognize him at first, with his spiffy brown hair and the glasses that sat on his face. The only way I could describe him as was... Well, a dork; lanky, wearing a plain, white, collared shirt, tan trousers, black suspenders, and a black bowtie. A newspaper was spread out in front of him, and even from a distance, I could see its headline.

_New Orleans Serial Killer Still at Large!_

Almost immediately, I realized who I was seeing. There was only one man that I knew who was from Louisiana: Alastor. The vintage attire made sense now. Everybody looked to be straight out of the 1930s, because this _was _the 1930s. I was being given another glimpse into the Radio Demon's past.

I took a moment to get a better look at him. He looked so different from how I'd met him. It was different to see him without his deathly grey skin and crimson attire. The brown color of his hair matched the frosted tips he had now, and paired nicely with his mahogany-colored eyes. I think the biggest difference was due to his oval-shaped glasses, rather than the monocle he wore over his right eye. Even at this point in time, it seemed like that one eye was his only issue.

The biggest difference, though, was that he looked... innocent. He didn't radiate the shadowy aura of a sinner. I couldn't imagine him hurting or killing so much as a fly. He looked more like a helpful young gentleman that escorted his dates home after a night out on the town. What the fuck happened?!

As he sat there reading his paper, a curvy flapper girl with curly blonde hair sauntered up to his table.

"There you are, dearie!" she cooed, "I haven't seen you 'round here in days!"

Alastor rolled up his paper and set it aside, shooting the girl his iconic smile.

"Well, hello there, Mimsy," he greeted, "You're looking as radiant as ever."

Something was wrong. Alastor's words were kind, but there wasn't any energy or emotion behind them. He had that tone that said he'd rather be doing anything else than talk to this girl. Moreover, this woman, Mimsy, appeared to be older than he was at this time. Quite a bit older, actually; somewhere in the range of her late twenties to early thirties. Alastor, on the other hand, appeared to be in his late teens, maybe his early twenties, at most. Even so, Mimsy was talking to him as if she were head-over-heels in love with him, while Al sounded entirely uninterested.

"I heard your broadcast over the radio this mornin!" Mimsy continued, shivering with delight, "You were positively magnificent! I think you finally found your callin'."

Alastor's let out an airy laugh, "You think so?"

"Of course! You have a voice that was born for radio. Why, I could listen to it all day long!"

"That's very kind of you to say, darlin'."

The more I listened to them talk, the more the dreaded feeling in my gut grew. Alastor could carry on a conversation with himself all livelong day, if he wanted to, but it felt like he was trying to say as little to Mimsy as possible. I could sense a shadow looming over them, and a sinking feeling that something bad was about to happen.

"Could you walk me home?" Mimsy asked, "It's gettin' to be pretty late, and I just don't feel safe trottin' through the dark on my own."

Alastor smiled politely and stood up, towering over the flapper girl by well over a foot, "Of course."

Mimsy hooked her arm in his. Yup, Al definitely fit the appearance of a man that would always treat a woman with the utmost respect. He put on his best fake smile and straightened himself, shrugging off those that chose to ogle at them as the pair made their way towards the door. Although they left the bar together, however, I could tell that the little flapper girl was enjoying this a lot more than Alastor was.

I followed them down the bustling streets until the pair suddenly took a sharp turn into a patch of dense forest. It was almost pitch black out, making navigating the narrow trail they were taking nearly impossible to follow.

"Mimsy, where are we going?" I could hear Alastor say from up ahead, "Your house is that way."

I caught up with them just in time to see Mimsy wrap her arms around him. I watched as Alastor went rigid as her hands trailed down his abs and caressed his hips. She pressed herself against his back, her head coming to rest against his shoulder blades.

Oh, God... I hoped I wasn't seeing what I thought I was seeing.

"You know I love you, right?" Mimsy muttered, her voice heavy with lust.

Alastor let out a nervous chuckle, "What's there to love?"

"Only _everything_!" Mimsy beamed as she spun Alastor around to face her, "You have got to be the most mesmerizing man this side of Louisiana! You're polite, and kind, and you're so lively. Why, any woman would be lucky to have you!"

I didn't think it was possible to see Alastor be scared of anything, but he was clearly terrified of this particular predicament. He tried his best to maintain his smile, but it gradually slipped away bit by bit as Mimsy's hands found their way around his shoulders. He looked like he just wanted the ground to swallow him up!

"I _love_ you, ya hear?" she said softly, "I _want_ you, and I want to be with you!"

Alastor gently pried the little flapper girl off of him, and placed his hands on her shoulders, "I'm sorry, Mimsy... but I don't feel the same way."

The forest went deathly quiet. Mimsy's face slowly went from an expression of hopeful delight to a look of saddened shock.

"But... you've always been so nice to me..."

"'Nice' doesn't always mean 'love', darlin'," Alastor explained calmly, "Sometimes it means 'friends'. Just friends, and nothing more."

I couldn't help but feel a little bit sorry for the poor gal. I too knew the pain of rejection well. Granted, I always fixed it with a love potion and a fuck ton of booze before I wound up down here, but it'd never last. The effects wore off sooner or later, and the results were the same in the end; loneliness accompanied by that empty feeling in my chest that never went away unless blood was spilled. Another thing I hated myself for, and one more item on the long list of reasons why I went to Hell.

Mimsy's face held an expression of deep sadness before twisting into a look of maniacal rage. She grabbed Alastor by the front of his shirt and threw him onto the grass before pinning him down by the wrists and straddling his torso. Al kicked and twisted, trying to free himself from her grip and slither out from under her, to no avail. Mimsy held on for dear life, sitting heavier on top of him to keep him from moving.

"What are you doing?!" he shouted, "Let go of me!"

"You will be mine!" Mimsy chided, "You'll see. I'll _make you_ want me!"

I don't know how she managed it, but even with Alastor thrashing beneath her, she managed to lock her lips with his. Al looked like he was about ready to throw up by the time she pulled away, his skin growing pale and clammy while his chocolate-colored eyes burned with something sinister. I desperately wanted to intervene; kick the flapper girl off of him and pull him to safety, but I knew that I couldn't. This was a vision, after all. Just a glimpse into the past. I didn't have the power to change the past; no being in Hell or on Earth did. I could only stand there and watch in horror, hoping and praying that it would end and I'd be brought back to the waking world.

Eventually, Alastor managed to free one of his hands and started clawing desperately at the ground. He managed to grab a hold of a nearby rock jutting up from the grass, and tried desperately to dig it out. It was uprooted with and earthy crunch, and Alastor swung it as hard as he could. The rock collided with the side of Mimsy's head with a sickening crack, and the flapper girl was knocked to the side and onto the ground. Blood trickled down her face from her temple as she winced and whimpered in pain.

I expected Alastor to bolt; take off running back towards town, and never look back. Instead, he straddled the still-twitching Mimsy, and wrapped his hands around her throat. She gasped and choked, trying with every last bit of her remaining strength to pry his hands off, but it was hopeless. Within minutes, Mimsy's limbs went limp, her face turning blue as her eyes rolled back in her head. Alastor only released his grip when he heard the sound of her larynx being crushed.

Taking a moment to compose himself, Alastor backed away from Mimsy's body and leaned heavily against a nearby tree. His once neatly combed hair was now a mess, and his clean, crisp clothes were disheveled and covered in mud and grass stains. He wiped the bit of red lipstick Mimsy had left behind away from his lips and spat into the grass before bolting off, vanishing deeper into the woods.

I woke up with a start, panting and gasping with the shock and intensity of everything that I had just seen. My hands trembled against the covers as my tail curled over the edge of my bed. My sheets were a mess of lost feathers from the heavy amounts of tossing and turning, as well as the ruffling of my wings as I sat up in bed.

What the hell did I just see? What the fuck was that?

I caved. Throwing my covers aside, I snagged a ten-dollar bill from my supply bag and snuck down to the main floor of the hotel. I slipped into the office, and crept up to the closet that held our confiscated items. I dug out my cigarettes and lighter, and tossed the money onto Charlie's desk with my name attached to it before stepping outside.

Nicotine really did hinder my ability to decipher visions. The less of it that was in my system, the more detailed my visions were. That was evident with my dreams of the Happy Hotel and Alastor's childhood memory when compared to this most recent dream, where I might as well have been there the very day it happened.

These visions weren't random; they never were. Each one served a purpose in aiding me. Had this vision given me a glimpse of his first victim? No, that was unlikely. The newspaper that Al had been reading had said that a serial killer was still at large, and he seemed to have been pretty absorbed in the story before Mimsy had walked up to his table. Details like that didn't show up clear as day like that unless they were connected somehow. Mimsy likely hadn't been Alastor's first victim, but she was probably the most significant. The events that I had just witnessed were traumatic and disgusting, and probably still haunted him to this day.

And there was one more thing that _really_ sent a chill down my spine. I recalled seeing a short, chubby flapper girl somewhere along the way on my journey to this hotel; a flapper girl that bore an uncanny, yet demonic, resemblance to Mimsy. She was down in Hell with us. No surprise there, but of all the places she could have resided in, she was way too close for comfort.

I immediately thought back to what Niffty had told me earlier yesterday morning.

Alastor didn't want to be with anybody. That's just the way he preferred it, and now I think I knew why.

Men being sexually assaulted and raped by women was something that was typically glossed over by the public and the media, even in the twenty-first century. The headlines were always full of women who had been put through the same hell by some scumbag, and that scumbag would be thoroughly torn apart by the public, but you never heard of the men who had to endure the same torment, and their abusers being given the same treatment. If you did, then those stories were few and far between. Men were forced to suffer in silence, lest they be taunted and harrassed by everyone else for being weak, or however it looked in the public's eyes.

Alastor was just one of many lost amongst the silent screams, and if the memory pained him, then he hid it well behind his unwavering smile.


	6. Chapter 6: An Errand to Run

**Chapter 6: An Errand to Run**

"What. The Hell. Happened?!"

With morning came a summons to the office. I should have expected as much, since it hadn't been a full day, and I had already broken the fourth rule of the hotel. Charlie's face was full of disappointment, and Vaggie stared disapprovingly at me with her arms crossed as I sat before them in a chair in front of the desk.

"All that talk you spewed out yesterday, and you cave after one day?" Vaggie growled, "You couldn't go one day, one day, without a fix?! Do you need your cigarettes that badly?!"

"You make it sound like I killed somebody," I said with a grunt.

I always tried to remain confidential with the readings and visions that pertained to other people. Whatever knowledge I held was nobody else's business, but I knew I couldn't hold this in forever. The images and conversations that happened in my dream were driving me mad! If I continued to keep quiet about it, I would most likely never put my cigarettes down again.

Charlie cleared her throat, "Juniper, if you'd be so inclined to share, I would like an explanation for this behavior."

Her tone made me look up. She stood with her back straight and her arms crossed. The expression on her face was serious and unwavering, but she peeked past her nose for half a second, shooting me an encouraging smile and a wink. She was definitely getting better at keeping a strong tone and remaining confident. I wasn't sure what made me feel better; the fact she was trying to comfort me, or the progress she seemed to be making.

I sat up straighter in my chair and let out a sigh, "I had another vision last night. A glimpse into Alastor's past."

The stern looks I was being given fell into looks of concern and intrigue.

"How is that possible?" Vaggie asked, "You two barely know each other. How are you able to get visions that pertain to his past?"

I shook my head, "I don't know, but it was so vivid, I... I just needed something to calm myself down. I'm sorry."

Vaggie's expression softened with my apology. Behind her eyes, I could tell she was checking herself, too. I may have broken a rule, but it wasn't like I had gone out and committed mass genocide. It was just a few cancer sticks, and I had willingly forked over my payment at the time I had took them. No lies, no trickery. At the end of the day, the cigarettes and lighter would be back in the closet, and I'd start over. I think she realized that her scolding was just a tad bit harsh for the situation.

Charlie rounded the side of her desk and took a seat next to me, "Do you want to talk about it? Is it bad?"

I nodded, explaining everything; the bar, Mimsy, the attempted rape, the murder. Everything was explained as close to how I remembered it as possible. Something about it must have hit too close to home for Vaggie as she backed off and shut herself off from the discussion towards the end. Charlie had her hands over her mouth as her eyes widened in disbelief.

"You really saw _all _of that?!" she gasped.

"Every bit of it," I responded, "If it was an ordinary dream, I would have intervened, but I can't do anything about my visions. I can't change what I see or what happens in them."

"So you think Al was really sexually assaulted by Mimsy?"

I nodded again, "Niffty said something about him not wanting to be with anybody, and that he prefers it that way. That vision gives a pretty good explanation as to why."

"Makes sense," Vaggie added, "Mimsy has always been the type to chase after demons who've been around since the twenties and thirties. It definitely explains why she always has her radio going in the club that she owns."

Vaggie's words confirmed my earlier suspicions. The flapper girl I had seen on my way to the hotel _was_ Mimsy, and if I had to wager a guess, she was possibly still looking for Alastor, if the two of them hadn't crossed paths already. I could only hope that there wasn't any bad blood between them. Sexual assault and murder didn't exactly make for a great history between two people, and if Mimsy ever came to the hotel with ill intentions, things could get ugly around here in an instant.

"I'm sorry you had to see a horrible thing like that in one of your visions," Charlie said, "If you ever need to get a hold of me, you can always give me a call."

Charlie reached into a drawer in her desk and pulled out something I hadn't gotten my hands on in years; a smartphone. Hell phones, as we called them, they had all the same qualities as the modern day touchscreen phones of Earth. Rather than the cutesy, somewhat annoying alert sounds and ringtones that humanity had, however, the cell phones of Hell were riddled with recordings of demonic vocalizations and the tormented screams of the damned. Hearing someone's phone go off in this realm was a whole different experience when you hear someone getting bludgeoned to death inside of someone's pocket.

I took the phone and turned it on. It was already set up with Charlie and Vaggie's contact information, as well as a few gaming apps to keep me entertained. Picking up a touchscreen phone after being in Hell without one for so long was like reuniting with an old friend; so different, yet so familiar. On top of that, the Wi-Fi connection down here was astoundingly fast. Then again, with so many of Hell's residents enjoying porn sites and red rooms in their free time, Hell _needed _good internet speeds, or this place would have more riots than Lucifer could probably handle.

I furrowed my brow as I looked the phone's contacts over, "Al doesn't have a number?"

Vaggie barked out a laugh, "Ha! Give the 1930s radio host a hell phone, and see what happens! It'd be like asking someone to solve a Rubik's cube!"

I chuckled, "Yeah, I guess you have a point there."

The first thing I couldn't help but accomplish with my new hell phone was take a selfie with Charlie and Vaggie. In the living world, being a murderous witch that hexes everyone around her doesn't really amount to having a lot of friends. Charlie, Vaggie, Alastor, and Angel Dust were the only people I could identify as my friends, apart from Hector and a few others that lived in the south side of Pentagram City. Despite our sharp-toothed smiles and unearthly appearances, finally being able to say I now had friends, and could make memories with those friends, felt amazing!

"So, are we good?" I asked, slipping my phone into a pocket in my jeans; Niffty having returned my clothes after spending the past day and a half washing them out and mending any holes and tears, "Am I free to leave now?"

Charlie nodded, "You're fine, June."

"Yeah," Vaggie chimed in, "We don't really blame you for what you experienced last night. Just make sure those cigarettes make their way back to the closet before tomorrow, or you'll _really _be in trouble!"

"Got it. I've got an errand I need to run, anyways."

"What's the errand?" Charlie inquired, "Do you need something?"

"Ehh, not so much as _need_ something as it is need to _do_ something. I'm going back to the south side."

A slight look of shock and worry crossed Charlie and Vaggie's faces.

"Why?" Vaggie asked, "What about the hotel?"

"Oh, I'll be back before dinner time, but I need to return to them with word about this hotel. They're probably getting worried. I'm going to see if I can convince a few of them into come back with me."

Charlie eyes lit up with excitement, "You'd do that? Seriously?"

"Of course! It wouldn't make sense for me to go back to the south side to tell them all about this place, only to come back without bringing a few curious demons along with me. Who knows? If word about this place spreads, hopefully you start getting new residents from all over the city."

The demon princess squealed with delight. Her smile was so big and so bright that she had to rub her cheeks to ease the ache from their muscles. Vaggie seemed to be just as happy as she was, but in a more refined, low-key kind of way. Now, I could only hope that there would be a few demons in the south side that would actually be willing to give the Hazbin Hotel a chance. It'd be a little depressing if I came back here empty handed.

I stepped out of the office and into the lobby, only to be put off by the demon I found manning the check-in counter. Alastor was sat there elegantly, his head resting on top of his hands as he leaned on his elbows. A steaming mug of coffee was sat on the counter in front of him, filling the room with its rich aroma as he hummed a lazy tune. I could tell this was his first cup of the day, judging from how the Radio Demon's eyes still drooped sleepily to the point where he looked like he could doze off any second.

I strode up to him and tapped the little silver call bell. Alastor perked up immediately and his smile widened.

"_And what can I do for you this morning, Miss Charms?_" he asked.

"Where's Husk?" I inquired, taking note of the cat demon's absence.

"_Ohh, I'm afraid he's a little 'under the weather', as they say. A nasty little case of the brown bottle flu!_"

I shook my head. Judging from how I had watched him nurse his hangovers with more alcohol in the past, and then continue on drinking, I figured that it had been a long time since Husk was actually sober. He probably wasn't having the best of times being forced to go clean. Given that he was forced to give up his gambling addiction, too, he most likely couldn't afford a cheat day like I had.

"I wanted to ask you a favor," I piped up, earning an intrigued flash from Alastor's blood-red eyes, "I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me on my trip back to the south side today."

Alastor let out a musical hum, though I wasn't sure if he was pondering my request, or if he was doing it out of drowsiness. He rested his head in an upturned palm as he reached for his coffee.

"_Now why would I want to do that?_" he inquired, taking a few decent sized gulps from his beverage.

"Because the south side is _your _territory, not mine," I stated, "The denizens in that part of the city may try tuning into your station on the radio, but they see _me _as their leader. Some of the demons over there even think you're dead. Don't you want the satisfaction of at least startling them a little? Besides, it'll give you a reason to get out of this place for a little while. I know I'm itching for a bit of fresh air."

Alastor slammed down the rest of his coffee and tapped a pondering finger against his chin.

"_Hmm, let me think about it..._" he hummed before slumping tiredly in his seat, "..._ over another cup o' joe._"

* * *

My footsteps fell noiselessly against the sidewalk as I began the long walk back to the south side of Pentagram City. The streets were already alive and bustling by the time I headed out; although, I guess they could be compared to the streets of New York as a city that never sleeps. There was always some sort of action going that sinners liked to wrap themselves up in, whether it was the news, sports, business, or just plain mischief. Life down here could be almost identical to the ways of the living world, at times, only with a lot more crime and a lot less people that gave enough of a shit to stop it.

I couldn't help but focus my attention on the set of footsteps following closely behind me, clapping loudly against the concrete in a rhythmic stroll that sounded almost as pompous as the person that was making them. Admittedly, my company was making travel a lot more peaceful as other demons peered cautiously over my shoulders as I passed them by. Some chose to look the other way, some gave a respectful nod of their heads, and others just flat-out ran in the opposite direction. No more shoving. No more attempted muggings. Nothing but peaceful, uninterrupted walking.

I tossed a glance over my shoulder. Alastor kept pace with me, choosing to stay a few feet behind me as he shot pointed stares at anyone who thought to try something funny. I even saw a silver-furred hellhound stick her tail between her legs and scamper off the moment she made eye contact with the Radio Demon, and hellhounds were some of the meanest demons out there!

Having a demon overlord as a travel buddy really had its benefits.

"_You know, Miss Charms,_" Al piped up, "_You **have **wings._"

I shot him a look of mock surprise, "What an astute observation, Alastor! Yes, I know I have wings."

"_So why don't you use them?_"

"Because I'll be shot down the moment I take off. I have a few scars I can show you from the last time I tried flying around Hell, if you're interested."

"_I'd rather not..._"

"That's what I thought."

"_Even so!_" Alastor danced his way in front of me, blocking my path, "_Flying would be a far more efficient way of reaching the south side before dusk. Wouldn't you agree?_"

He wasn't wrong there. At this rate, we _wouldn't _reach the south side until dusk. By that point I'd be too tired to try to convince a few sinners to come back with me, let alone make the tiring walk back to the hotel. But flying wasn't as easy as just opening my wings and flapping up into the air. It either took a running start to get going, or a drop off of a very high surface, like a cliffside or a rooftop. Not to mention the ever-present risk of being shot down like some piece of wild game. And what about Alastor? I didn't see a pair of wings on him he could fly around with, and carrying him during flight would be easier said than done. And God forbid it if he was afraid of heights...

"_Trust me, my dear,_" the Radio Demon continued resting a hand on one of my shoulders, "_In my company, the only demons that will be taking aim at you are those with a **death wish**!_"

I froze as I watched Alastor's appearance gradually grow more demonic with each word that slipped out of his mouth. I didn't even think that was possible, but I could only watch as his eyes retreated deeper into their sockets, turning into red, blazing radio dials. His little four-point antlers that stuck out of his messy red hair spread into a looming eighteen-point rack, and the static that he emitted in his speech seemed to manifest in the air, blotting out everything around us. His maniacal grin was wider than I'd ever seen it, and there appeared to be eight times the number of sharp yellow teeth in his mouth than there normally was.

"O-okay, okay, point made!" I stammered out, "We'll fly. I just need a running start, is all."

I took a moment to make sure all of my belongings were secure. The last thing I needed was dropping my new hell phone when I was hundreds of feet in the air. At least I hadn't bothered with my cloak or travel bag this time around. All I had really bothered to bring was my phone and wallet, just in case I got hungry or I needed to contact someone back at the hotel. The less cumbersome items on me that I could potentially lose mid flight, the better, because I already knew I'd have one hell of a time with Alastor as my passenger.

I took a few steps forward and opened my wings. The sound they emitted seemed to serve as a warning bell to the other demons in the area, as I watched the ones that were in my path jump back a few feet, opening up a fair stretch of the road. Now all I had to do was hope there weren't any cars that would try to hit me while I was taking off.

"I'll come back for you in a minute," I said, tossing a glance over to Alastor.

The Radio Demon flashed his teeth once before I took off down the street. Like my tail, my wings had a mind of their own most of the time. The only difference was that I could trust my wings. It took getting pushed off of a few cliffsides and taking a a couple of nasty falls while training, but once I had learned how to fly, using them came as naturally as breathing, and they didn't fail me this time around, either, as they started flapping in time with my strides.

One strong kick up off of the ground was all it took to make me airborne, my wings lifting me higher until I was gliding above the tops of the buildings. I circled back to where I had left Alastor, easily spotting him down below as his red attire stood out against the dingy grey of the city streets. The spaces were narrow, but I was able to dive down towards him, flexing my fingers as I readied myself to pick him up. As my fingers mainly consisted of my razor sharp talons, snatching passengers up off of the ground was a delicate process that required accuracy and high precision. The last thing I wanted to do was accidentally disembowel the guy.

As I flew down closer to him, I reached out my hands and gestured for Alastor to grab a hold of them. The timing was nearly spot on as we both got a grip of each other's forearms, the Radio Demon's hands slipping slightly as my wings beat just a bit harder than they needed to in order to get him up off of the ground. I could already tell I was going to have a few decent sized claw marks from where his crimson claws had drug down my skin.

"You're a lot lighter than I thought you would be," I commented as I started taking off back towards the rooftops, "What are you made out of? Cotton?"

Alastor barked out a laugh, "_Dear, my body is a testament to the devastation that followed the stock market crash of 1929! Of course I'm lighter than I ought to be!_"

I had to pause and think for a second. History was never a strong suit of mine back in the living word, but I had learned all kinds of history from the other demons around Hell. That included finding out a thing or two about the Great Depression. I felt like at this point I had heard it all; from individuals tapping into their neighbors' electricity, to acts of cannibalism. Disasters like that could bring out the best in people, but it also brought out the worst; the people that did whatever they had to in order to survive. _Whatever_ they had to.

"So is that how you died, then?" I asked, "Starvation?"

"_Ha ha ha! Don't be ridiculous! The day a Louisiana man starves to death in any era is the day pigs fly! No, no, I managed to get on just fine through the use of an 'alternative' diet._"

"I don't even want to know what that's supposed to mean..."

I took us higher into the air until we were gliding well above the west side's tallest buildings. With a bit of adjusting, and some aerial acrobatics, I managed to situate Alastor to where he was riding on my back. He was slender enough to where he didn't hinder my wings' mobility, and it would be more comfortable than leaving him dangling from the tips of my claws until we reached a south side.

"_My my, what a view!_" Alastor commented from over my shoulder, "_You can see everything from up here!_"

I let out a chuckle, "Is this your first time flying, Al?"

"_Indeed, it is! Truly breathtaking__!_"

I flinched when I heard a bout of static coming from the Radio Demon, only to catch him adjusting his monocle and summoning his microphone stand. I still wasn't quite able to grasp the nature of the sentient objects some demons chose to possess. The only thing I did understand about them was that they seemed to share the same personality as their owner, and were almost as alive as the sinners down here. And from what I could tell, Alastor's microphone was more than a little surprised to find itself several hundreds of feet in the air.

"_Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for tuning in!_" it took me all of a moment to realize that Al was broadcasting this little experience of his to the entire city, if not to all of Hell, "_This is your host, the Radio Demon, coming to you live from the skies of Pentagram City! Yes, you heard that right, folks. This radio host is airborne!_"

I tried my best to contain my laughter. I think under any others circumstances, I would have been annoyed, but the excitement in Alastor's voice was so genuine that decided to roll with it and let him have his fun.

"_I am joined here by my pilot, the lovely Miss Juniper Charms,_" he continued, "_We decided to make use of her wings, as I find a walk from the west side of the city to the south side to be unsavory. Kind of like my father's recipe for Étouffée, leaving everyone recovering for weeks!_"

And that's how it went for most of the trip. Alastor announced anything and everything that he could through his broadcasts as I followed my course towards the south side of the city. For the first time since arriving in Hell, I was able to fly with my mind at ease. Al was right. Nobody bothered trying to shoot me down. With how much he stood out, as well as making it known that he was the passenger on a flyer, nobody bothered to take aim at me with him in tow. The perks of being in the company of a demon overlord, I suppose.

"_Say, Juniper?_" I heard Alastor pipe up, "_How fast can these wings of yours carry us?_"

"Do you want a number or a demonstration?" I asked.

A continuous, droning, electrical hum answered me, hinting towards Al's eagerness for a demonstration.

"Well, tuck your microphone somewhere safe, and hold on tight, because it's pretty fast!"

Within a few seconds, the microphone vanished and the Radio Demon had a firm grip on my ibex-like horns. Normally, I hated having anything touch the long, curved outgrowths, since their individual weight alone often made me suffer from massive headaches and made me feel like I was being scalped whenever someone was dumb enough to pull on one of them. In this scenario, however, gripping the base of my horns was probably the lesser of two evils, as I knew it was going to hurt a hell of a lot more if Alastor tried using my dreadlocks as reins.

I beat my wings harder, getting more wind beneath them, and dove downwards. The effect was almost immediate as I plummeted, the combination of gravity pulling me as my wings and body steered sending me shooting through the streets at remarkable speeds. Many demons dove for cover as I passed by, spewing curse words and swearing up a storm as they dodged my path. I could've sworn we cleared the entire west side of the city in less than five minutes.

With my remaining momentum, I launched myself back into the sky and slowed myself back down to a steady glide as I tried to catch my breath. I hadn't flown that fast since Hector challenged me to a race to the north side of the city over a year ago! I had almost forgotten how exhilarating flying could be after being grounded for so long.

"_That was stupendous, Miss Charms!_" Alastor cheered, "_You're quite possibly the fastest flyer I've ever seen! And look! I reckon we've made it to the south side in record time!_"

I cast my gaze ahead of us. In the distance sat the looming shadow that was the south side of Pentagram City; a dark, shadowy, triangular piece of land that contrasted with the neon lights and bustling activity of the rest of the city. It was different seeing it again. After only two days of being away, I felt depressed at the sad state it'd been left in, but at least I'd be back in the place that I was most familiar with.

Something put me off as I approached, though, something that troubled me more than just the gloomy aura that tiny piece of Hell always carried. I wanted to think they were just campfires that belonged to the denizens of the south side, with the smoke that was rolling into the air from the piles of rubble the demons there called home. I was wrong... Oh, god, how I was wrong! I could make out deep indentations in the ground where it looked like bombs had been dropped. What little remained of the homes there had been reduced to a smouldering pile of ashes and charred metal. The entire area had been all but leveled.

The south side had been attacked!


	7. Chapter 7: Taking on New Roles

**Chapter 7: Taking on New Roles**

I hit the sidewalk with a thud, sending shocks of pain shooting through my ankles as I landed, and Alastor immediately climbed off of my back and took the lead as he began surveying the area.

Everything looked as though it had been set ablaze, with the metal and lumber that made up a majority of the dens charred to a blackened husk. Cardboard, as well as any other substance that fire could easily consume, had been reduced to ashes. Craters where explosives had clearly been detonated peppered the land, blowing whole blocks apart and leaving nothing behind but scattered debris. Fragments of glass reflected off of the ground where windows had been shattered, making a single misstep a one-way ticket to a serious injury.

I didn't see a single soul in sight, even as I took off into the air again, searching for signs of life as I circled the battered landscape. All of this destruction and devastation were the telltale marks of a demon trying to gain new territory, trying to make it as unappealing as possible in the hopes that the demon that owned it wouldn't want to invest the time and effort it took to reclaim it and rebuild.

How could this have happened? Who could have done this? Who in their right mind would dare to try to take over territory that belonged to the Radio Demon?

I turned back around and returned to where I had left Alastor. He seemed to be almost impressed by the amount of damage that surrounded us, chuckling to himself as he looked around. My assumptions were misguided, though, as I looked into his eyes. They burned with two emotions that nobody ever wanted to see from him: hatred and rage. Whoever had the gall to try to take territory from him in secret was in for a world of pain and suffering, because Al was officially one hundred percent pissed off!

"I don't see anybody," I reported as I landed next to him, "It appears they all up and left."

Alastor said nothing, and instead pointed a claw towards one of the collapsed dens nearby. A blue pair of eyes stared back at us from the darkness within, wide with fear. I had a good feeling about who it was as I approached them, moving slowly just in case my company wasn't welcome.

"It's okay," I said in a calming tone, "It's me. Juniper."

"Juniper?" a small voice responded as a tiny bat-like face popped out of the rubble, "It's really you?"

I nodded. I barely had enough time to react as the little bat demon that had seen me off two days ago launched himself out of his hiding place and into my arms. He trembled as he clung to my chest and buried his face into my shoulder. He had been one of the newest demons to manifest in Hell and join us in the south side. I was the only protector that he knew.

"What happened here, Rascal?" I asked, pulling the bat demon away and setting him in front of me.

"Sir Pentious happened," came another voice from the city's ruins, "He did this."

A thin figure with mess of long black hair and grey skin clambered out of a pile of burnt timber. One of his spike-like antlers had been broken off, and his right arm had been severely burned. He was another familiar face, though, and a comforting one at that. Old Hector had survived too.

"He came barging in here with another one of his fucking inventions," he snarled, "Blew the entire south side to pieces!"

Sir Pentious. That lousy, good-for-nothing snake did this! That fact didn't surprise me. It was well-known throughout Hell that the snake demon had a grudge against Alastor. Before the Radio Demon had taken control of the south side, this part of Pentagram City was run by Sir Pentious and his idiotic army of eggs. He had wanted to demolish the communities here in order to build a secret lab of some sort, and I spent my first year in Hell as a slave to the bastard's demands.

I still remember the day like it was yesterday, when Alastor came by the south side during a casual stroll through the city. On a whim, he decided to fight Pentious for his territory. It was a quick fight, as Al had made short work of every last one of the snake demon's contraptions, crushing them all like empty soda cans with the unholy beasts he controlled. Sir Pentious never stood a chance, and was ran out of the south side with his coils in knots.

That was the first and the last time I saw Alastor before I came to the Hazbin Hotel. Now, I didn't know very many powerful demons at the time, but that fight had taught me something very important: don't fuck with the Radio Demon. And Sir Pentious had definitely crossed that line.

"How many people got hurt?" I asked Hector, "Give it to me straight. What are the numbers?"

Hector's expression fell into a look of sorrow and helplessness, "Fifty are dead, and dozens are injured that I know of so far."

My heart sank. This was Hell, but the south side of Pentagram City was supposed to be a place of refuge; a place where weaker demons could feel somewhat safe. It offered so little that the well-established demons in Hell didn't see any value in its lands, or the newly manifested. It allowed new souls to find their footing in this lawless realm, and gave those that had been here for centuries a quiet corner to settle down in. That entire philosophy had been uprooted.

A small squeak pulled me out of my thoughts. I wheeled around in time to find Alastor holding Rascal by the scruff of his neck, staring him down as an amused smirk settled on his face. The bat demon was pleading for his life as he squirmed in the Radio Demon's grasp.

Hector peered over my shoulder to get a better look. His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped, "Is that who I think it is?"

"Oh, yeah. I haven't introduced you to my travel buddy yet, have I?" I led him up to Alastor and plucked Rascal from the red-clad demon's claws, "Meet the one and only Radio Demon. Alastor, this is Hector. He's my--"

Hector cut me off, forcing his way past me and standing toe to toe with Al.

"You've got some nerve showing up around here!" he growled, "What? You don't bother to show your face for two whole years, only to come wandering back with June to check in on the place? That's mighty convenient! What's the matter? Don't like the idea of a weaker demon being seen as a leader in your territory? Why I ought to--"

"Watch it..." I warned, "I've been reminded a few times that Al isn't any old demon since we've been reintroduced. Don't be saying anything you'll regret."

"Are you kidding? He probably thinks just because he's the fucking Radio Demon, he can just come and go as he damn well pleases. He doesn't give a shit about this place. Otherwise, he would have turned Sir Pentious into a belt and a nice pair of boots for so much as looking into his territory!"

"Hector..."

"I mean just look at him, hiding everything behind that cheeky smile of his. Do you think nobody here is going to challenge you just because you've got a bit more power than the rest of us? Well that ain't gonna fly by me, pal!"

I pinched the bridge of my nose irritability as Hector squared off with Alastor, his obsidian wings fluffing out to twice their original size as his tail flicked aggressively. His broken antler grew back to a sharpened spike as the remaining one sprouted three more points. He radiated an aura of unbridled territorial aggression. Deer demons could be such hot heads!

Alastor didn't seem to be the least bit intimidated by Hector's display as he flashed his teeth, keeping his arms folded behind his back. If anything, he looked amused. Why wouldn't he be? Hector's strength and abilities were infantile, at best, compared to his. It wouldn't take much for Al to square him up and turn him into a chew toy.

I lifted my hand, prepared to dispel the negative energy between them, only to discover an air of calm surrounding the Radio Demon. All of this tension was coming from Hector. Alastor had no intention of duking it out with him. He was completely and utterly unperturbed.

"That's enough, Hector," I spoke up, walking over to Alastor and plucking Rascal out of his hands, "How Alastor managed to get under your skin is of little concern to me right now. We have more pressing matters that need addressing first."

Hector wheeled around, his yellow eyes blazing and teeth bared in a snarl. That was just one of his many flaws. When he wanted to fight, he wanted to fight, and he wouldn't quit until one was standing over the other's limp and battered body.

I crossed my arms and leaned into his face. The darkness inside of me churned before surfacing. I could feel my eyes burn, swallowing him in a light blue hue. My lips peeled back and an unearthly growl rose from the depths of my throat. It didn't take but a second for Hector to shrink back, his aggression fizzling out and being replaced by fear.

"Unless you wanna be a red smear in the middle of the street," I snarled, "You better back the fuck up!"

"Yes, ma'am..." Hector answered shakily, straightening his spine and taking a few steps back.

I didn't like having to show my demonic side. It was only one step below me falling back into my old ways, a part of me that I had locked away long ago and vowed to never use again. Without restraint, Hector _would have _ended up as a red smear in the middle of the street, and that would be if he was lucky. A warning went a long ways with him. All he needed to do was heed it.

I calmed myself down and looked around at the desolate neighborhood, "Where is everybody?"

"Hiding," Hector replied, "After the attack, everyone dove deeper into the rubble and waited for help to arrive."

Something in me sank, "You've all just been waiting for me to return? All this time?"

Hector nodded, "I figured you wouldn't be long. It's only been about twelve hours since the attack."

Twelve hours. The south side had been sitting here, demolished and burning, its people wounded and bleeding, for _twelve hours_. They didn't have a leader they could turn to that could help them figure out what they should do, or where they could go. How many demons died because nobody was there to guide them?

I took off into the air and began circling the area once more. I started up a howling that could be heard for miles. The people of the south side knew my cries, and after a few drawn out seconds, I started seeing signs of life. Faces covered in blood and ash poked out of the debris. Even from several feet up, I could hear their relieved chattering rising up through the air.

"It's Juniper!"

"Juniper's back!"

"She's come to help us!"

I circled and circled until there was a fair number of denizens gathered in the streets. Hellhounds returned my howls, and the air was filled with a cacophony of demonic vocalizations that were a mix of fear, joy, and relief. I motioned for them to follow as I took off in the direction of the heart of the territory, which was now essentially a giant crater. Somewhere in the masses, I saw Alastor and Hector following the crowd. Rascal had never left my side, and was holding onto one of my horns for dear life.

Finding a spot in my chosen meeting place, I waited for the others to appear. They came in waves. Those that were able to carried the injured in their arms and on their backs. I saw all manner of broken wings, shattered horns, severed tails, and charred flesh. Many came in limping, or holding an arm that was bent at an unnatural angle. There were plenty of missing eyes, tattered ears, mangled fur, damaged scales, and bloody noses. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought that these demons were soldiers returning from a war.

Alastor and Hector arrived just as the last few stragglers were coming in, doing their part in helping the weak and injured. The air started buzzing with questions, asking where I had been, what we were going to do, where we would go. I sent out one last howl, and those who had gathered gradually quieted down and waited patiently for me to speak.

"I'm sorry," I started, "I never anticipated that the south side would come under attack like this."

"Nobody did," Hector called out, "Don't you start blaming yourself, now. None of this is your fault."

I could see several demons nodding in agreement. Sure, nobody thought this would happen, but it felt mighty convenient that this happened shortly after I had left. It was like Sir Pentious had been waiting for me to be gone long enough to launch an attack.

"I come bearing news," I continued, "My visions were true. The Happy Hotel _does _exist, and it _is_ working on rehabilitating sinners."

Excited chatters rose up from the crowd. Many were rousing others to consciousness, relaying the announcement to the weakest of individuals.

"I have decided to give the hotel a chance," I added, "I'm not the most wicked demon out there. I _know_ there is some good in me, and I know that sinners just like me have a fighting chance at redemption. My mind is already made up."

Hushed murmurs started getting passed around between several of the demons. If they didn't look scared before, they did now. I could tell they were worried about whether or not they'd be able to get by without my insight or confidence. Without their shepherd, these demons were sitting sheep that were just waiting for the wolves.

"What about us?" Someone piped up, "What do you want us to do?"

My head fell as I let out a sigh, "It's not up to me... Alastor?"

The Radio Demon perked up, "_Yes, Miss Charms?_"

In one smooth motion, all heads turned to look at Alastor. Those that stood closest to him jumped back a few feet, and a gasp of shock spread through the masses. It was like they hadn't been made aware of his presence until I bothered to say something. All the while, Al didn't seem to mind, gleefully striding through the crowd and making his way up to me.

I crossed my arms and fix the red-clad demon with a hard stare.

"Whether you acknowledge it or not, this is _your _territory," I said, "This attack was directed towards _you_. Sir Pentious did this because of _you_. _You_ control this side of the city, not me. What do _you _think we should do?"

Alastor chuckled, "_Smile more, for starters..._"

The entire south side let out a collective groan. Eyes rolled, and insults were hurled. I wanted to laugh, because everyone here seemed to have the same attitude towards the Radio Demon as Vaggie. I would be lying if I said his comment didn't make me chuckle a little bit.

"I'm being serious," I stated, "I'm not in charge here. What we do going forward is a pretty big decision that I can't make. If you want us to move, we'll move. If you want us to rebuild, we'll rebuild. If you want us to do nothing, we can do that too. What do _you _want us to do?"

Alastor tossed a glance over his shoulder at the battered demons behind him. They looked between me and him with a shared look of worry. Leaving their fate in the hands of a powerful demon that defeated fellow overlords in his spare time obviously didn't sit well with them, but this was his choice to make, and nobody else's.

Pacing along the front of the crowd with a bounce in his step, Alastor twirled his microphone stand as he hummed a pondering tune. All eyes were on him, anxiously awaiting his decision. Between our crumbling surroundings and the sullen looks on everyone's faces, one would think that we were marked for death, no matter what his decision might be. Judging from how we'd been living after he took over the south side from Sir Pentious's grasp, I suppose it wasn't too far off from the truth.

Suddenly, Alastor stopped and pointed his microphone stand towards me. The gesture made the demons in the crowd jump before they relaxed and started speaking amongst each other in confusion.

I looked from him to the microphone several times, the stand's eye looking back up at me with just as much perplexity as the other demons.

I raised a brow, unsure of what was happening, "What?"

"_I think you'd make a mighty fine leader, wouldn't you agree_?"

The crowd started buzzing with excitement, their murmurs rising into cheers as I stared dumbfoundedly at the Radio Demon.

"What are you saying?"

Alastor cleared his throat, "_Juniper Charms, by the power invested in me by me, myself, and I, I hereby award you complete and total control over the south side__! These lowly street urchins now belong to you__!_"

The cheers grew louder. I wasn't sure if it was the sheer volume of their rejoice, or the massive shock that came over me, but I had to sit down and take it all in. Alastor had just made me a leader. Not unofficially, not by brute force, but by appointment by an older, stronger, more experienced demon. The _Radio Demon_, no less. I felt like I wanted to cry, dance, and throw up all at the same time. I could change the fate of these people for the better. We didn't have to settle anymore, yet at the same time, the entire fate of the south side now sat on my shoulders.

What would possess Alastor to make such a risky decision?

"_Now..._" the Radio Demon said, picking me up and wrapping an arm around my shoulders, "_What do **you **want us to do?_"

* * *

"Everyone gather around and stay in your groups!"

I was given no time to adjust to my new role as the south side's leader. With the south side being in the state that it was in, every sinner here was vulnerable to another attack. With how many demons that were either injured or dead, there was no way we'd be able to defend ourselves if Sir Pentious returned. So it was decided that all those who were willing would come back with me to the Hazbin Hotel.

Of course there were a select few that didn't see the point of working towards redemption. Those that refused to come along, or were already too far gone, would stay behind to either rebuild or die. Hector had been made second in command, as he had been one of the ones who decided to stay behind, as well. Despite his temper, he had some leadership experience that went as far back as the Vietnam War. He could be good with people and knew how to fight, if he kept a clear head, and I honestly couldn't think of anyone better suited for the job that wasn't already dead.

"Flyers, queue up and stick with me!" I announced, "Take as many of the injured with you as you can carry. If you cannot fly, hitch a ride from a buddy, or stick with the others. Hellhounds, stay on your guard! All eyes, ears, and noses peeled for danger! The rest of you will be going back with Alastor. And Alastor!"

The Radio Demon finagled his way out of the crowd and stood at attention, "_Yes, ma'am_?"

"Behave! No picking on the little ones, ya hear?"

"_Yes, ma'am!_"

I took a few seconds to breathe as I watched the others get situated. Being a leader and making sure everybody was in order was a lot of work; a lot more work than the motivational speeches I used to give to lift everyone's spirits on a bad day.

"It's gonna be a twenty minute flight to the hotel, if we take it easy," I continued, "I'll be making a call to ensure everybody else gets a ride. None of you can afford a ten hour walk through the west side in your current condition."

Stepping away from the commotion, I took out my hell phone and dialed Charlie, the device letting out a pained grunt as I tapped the call button. The line on the other end only rang twice before it picked up.

_"Well, hello Juniper!" _Charlie's cheerful voice beamed from the other side, _"How's your little outing with Al going?"_

I let out a flustered sigh, "Where do you want me to start? The attack on the south side, or me being made leader?"

They were two different situations that required two entirely different responses, and I could tell Charlie was fighting to figure out which she should address first.

_"Are you guys okay?" _she asked, _"Do you need me to send out the car?"_

"Well..." I turned to look back at the other demons. There had to be at least a few dozen demons queuing up, and we only had about ten good flyers that were managing to carry about two people each. There were still around ten to twenty more that would be going with Al, "A car would be nice. If you could make it a bus, that'd be even better."

_"Wow! You have that many demons coming back with you? That's **amazing**! I'll see what I can come up with for you guys."_

"Thanks, you're the best. Have the others over there ready to patch up some injured guests."

_"Are you going to be all right?"_

"I'll be fine. Don't worry about--" I happened to look up in time to see Alastor and Hector approaching me. Their antlers were locked, and they appeared to be stuck as they both shot me wary smiles, "... I gotta go."

I hung up the phone before Charlie could get another word in. Crossing my arms, I shot them a disapproving scowl and waited for an explanation.

"Dipshit over here started it!" Hector piped up, jabbing a finger against Alastor's chest.

"_All I said was that you were lucky that Miss Charms stepped in when she did, earlier today,_" Alastor said teasingly, "_Or I would have turned you into a full course meal_."

Hector lashed out one of his legs, the point of his cloven hoof aiming to land a blow against Alastor's junk. He missed by a mile. Al was taller than he was, causing him to strike nothing but air.

"I don't care who started it, I'll finish it!" I growled, gabbing a hold of their antlers. It took a bit of wrestling to pry the points apart without breaking them, "Now, I want you two to leave each other alone. Got it?"

Hector nodded as he shot one last glare at the Radio Demon before walking off. I hadn't seen him lock antlers with another deer demon in quite some time, but this was the first time I'd ever seen him get stuck. For other demons that fought with headgear, getting stuck was a golden opportunity for the stronger of the two opponents to go in with a shank, or just break the neck of the weaker opponent. Deer demons abided by a strict code of honor, though: no weapons; nothing but antlers and brute strength. The person whose entrails are still where they're supposed to be wins. Whoever breaks an antler first loses.

Of course, who knows if Alastor was bound by that same honor code.

"_So... you and Bambi, eh_?"

I was sure my face was as red as a ripe tomato as my cheeks burned, "What about him?"

Alastor waggled his eyebrows at me and emitted a staticky, suggestive chuckle. He didn't have to say the words. He was extremely good at writing it all over his face.

"Yes, we're mates," I admitted, "Though, with how much trouble he's been causing lately, I'm not sure how much longer that'll last."

"_Well, I think you two make a lovely couple! He makes it abundantly clear who wears the pants in the relationship!_"

I massaged my temples, trying to fight off another headache. I'll be damned if he wasn't wrong, though. I had Hector wrapped around my finger, and if he wanted to try to fight me, it didn't take much to get him to go with my demands. I guess, in that sense, that was another bad habit of mine that had yet to die.


	8. Chapter 8: A Bustling Hotel

**Chapter 8: ****A Bustling Hotel **

In a matter of hours, the Hazbin Hotel went from being a nearly vacant building to an infirmary. Charlie, Vaggie, and I directed incoming demons through the lobby and up to the dining room. Anywhere we could fit those that were injured filled up as nearly half of the population of the south side was sorted into groups of their own individual species. In the lobby, Alastor took on those with antlers and hooves, Niffty took care of the cyclopeans and imps, Husk helped out his fellow cat demons, hellhounds, and any other type of demon with fur and claws. Up in the dining room, Angel Dust did what he could to help his fellow arachnids and insect types, I worked with those with horns and feathered wings, and Vaggie and Charlie took on everyone else.

To say I was stressed was a colossal understatement. All around me, I had demons congratulating me on becoming the south side's new leader. All the while, those same demons were nursing severe injuries or bleeding out. Dining tables became operating tables as people worked feverishly to stitch each other up, reset broken limbs, or pop limbs back into place. I already had to deliver the devastating news to five winged demons that they'd most likely never fly again, and just when I thought we'd gotten through the worst of the injuries, the next wave of new arrivals would come in, bringing on a new set of injuries with varying degrees of severity.

It was well into the night before things finally started to settle down. Charlie shifted from patching up the injured to checking people in and setting them up in their rooms. Vaggie was able to leave and perform her regular duties of managing the hotel, fulfilling requests and making sure everyone was behaving. Alastor, despite looking completely drained and in need of a good night's rest, came up from the lobby with Niffty and prepared food for everyone. Angel Dust looked like he'd managed to make a few friends, and was actively engaged in a conversation with a mantis demon as he wrapped a bandage around one of his raptorial legs.

I went down into the lobby to check in on Husk. I found him with the other cat demons, watching over them as they lapped at their wounds alongside the hellhounds. It was strange not seeing him with a bottle of boose in his hands, but at the same time it was satisfying. He looked healthier, his fur sleek like he'd just ran a brush through it, and his eyes were more focused and alert. He had a cup of water nearby that he didn't seem to be all that impressed with, but he still drank it. It looked like he was genuinely trying to abide by the rules and stay away from the alcohol.

"How are you holding up?" I asked him.

"I've seen worse," Husk grumbled, crossing his arms as he eyed the other felines, "Pretty sure they'll live. What about you? I heard you had quite the day today."

I let out a tired sigh as I leaned against a nearby wall, "I guess you could say that. It's a lot to take in."

Husk chuckled as he patted my back, nearly bowling me over with the heaviness of his paw, "Bet you're wishing for that drink now, aren't ya?"

"I wouldn't say no to a shot right about now, not gonna lie."

"You'll be all right, kid. Don't worry about it."

With how much he scowled all the time, it felt weird to see him smiling and laughing as we talked. They say a sober man's thoughts are a drunk man's words, but I think Husk's true colors were revealed when he wasn't drinking. He knew how to be friendly and supportive, but all the liquor he consumed blotted that out and left him as little more than a bitter, antisocial, grumpy kitty. Maybe it _was_ possible for him to change for the better.

After sitting in silence for some time and watching the others in the room, Alastor came down to announce that dinner was ready. However, my attention was directed to a deep V that had been clipped out of the edge of one of his long, fluffy ears.

"What happened to you?" Husk inquired.

"_Ah, I'm afraid one of our guests got a little agitated as I was bandaging him up,_" Al explained as he turned towards one of the groups of demons that was nearby.

We followed his gaze to a large moose demon, who only tossed a glance at him before flipping him off. I knew that demon fairly well. He wasn't into making friends, or accepting help from anyone. My guess is that he really didn't care for getting help from the likes of Alastor, who responded to his gesture with a friendly wave.

"Let me take a look at it," I piped up, "Just to make sure it won't need any special attention."

Alastor seemed hesitant. The damaged ear swiveled away from my direction at the sheer reluctance he felt at me having to touch it, but flicked back into place when it brushed agaist one of his antlers. Either the damn thing really hurt, or he just didn't like anything touching his ears. Knowing how sensitive some of them could be, I was willing to bet it was the latter.

"Ten seconds," I said, "That's it."

Alastor pondered my request for a few seconds before finally stooping down to let me investigate. It was a clean cut, and was only a couple of inches long. The split might not fuse back together, but he had enough hair on his head that he could hide it if he wanted to. All he had to do was keep it clean, and it would heal all on its own.

Something caught my eye as I was looking him over. The fringe that hung over his forehead hid something that couldn't normally be seen when he was up and about. Without thinking, I lifted my hand and pushed away some of the hair, revealing a scar on his forehead. A scar that looked suspiciously like a bullet wound.

"What--"

My investigation was cut short as Alastor reared back and grabbed my wrist. His grip was tight as his smile wavered, threatening to morph into a snarl. I could see the radio dials in his eyes manifesting just behind his irises. An anxiety-inducing mixture of anger and fear rolled off of him like smoke as he stared me down. It was only then that I bothered to look around, and realized that I had been surrounded by an army of sentient shadows that grinned and growled at me as I met their obscure gazes.

Slowly, Alastor loosened his grip and took a step back, his expression never changing as he turned around and started back towards the staircase. Every set of eyes in the room followed him until he was out of sight before they turned to look at me. I had crossed a line. I had definitely, _definitely _crossed a line. Whatever that scar was that he kept hidden beneath his bangs, I wasn't supposed to know about it. Nobody was.

Husk came up beside me and shot me a nervous, sideways glance, "You saw it, didn't you? His scar... One of them, anyways."

I turned to him with a look, full of shock, curiosity, and confusion, "One of them?"

"Believe me, he's got more than just the one. He... didn't exactly die a good death."

"Is there really such thing as a _good_ death?"

"Heh, drinkin' myself to death wasn't a bad way to go, in my book. I can't give you all the details, because I don't want to end up getting skinned alive by that fucker. But I will say this: Al's got a lot more problems than he knows how to deal with, and I really think he could use your help."

My brow furrowed, "_My_ help?"

"Well, you're a witch, ain't ya? Can't you do a little voodoo therapy on him, or something?"

I couldn't help but laugh. It was a common misconception that I fixed everybody's problems with magic, or something akin to it. The truth of the matter was that most of my abilities didn't require it. Most of it was information that I had been taught through studying books and working with my mentors. My tarot readings were probably the most therapeutic thing I did for others, but even that only took a little bit of time to learn the meanings of the cards and finding the right tarot deck. Tied together with a bit of intuition, practically anyone could do what I did on the daily with a little time and practice. The only time I used my true abilities was when the elementary stuff didn't work.

Regardless, Husk's words did strike a cord with me. I had already gotten a look into Al's past. I got to see a fragment of his childhood, and I had witnessed his past interactions with Mimsy. There was bound to be a treasure trove of information he was keeping hidden away inside of him, and a heaping rat's nest of bad memories festering inside of his head that he wasn't letting out. Everyone had a breaking point; human, demon, or otherwise. How long would it be before his smiling, charismatic front finally crumbled?

"Look," Husk continued, "Alastor isn't exactly my favorite person in Hell, but we do go way back. He's all wise cracking yellow smiles on the surface, but deep down what he isn't saying is going to hurt him in the long run. I think your abilities could be of benefit to him."

I let out a hum, "You might be onto something there. The only thing I have to do is get him to sit still long enough for me to be able to help him, and accept it."

My hand slipped into a pocket in my jeans and pulled out my cigarette pack and lighter. I eyed them for a moment before moseying my way over to a trash can and chucking them into it. Granted, they were fished out in a matter of seconds by one of the junkies that had been hanging out in a corner, but I'd done what I aimed to achieve.

I hadn't had a cigarette since this morning, and my nicotine reserves were running on fumes. By the time I went to bed tonight, I'd be willing to bet that they'd be running on empty. Good. Not only was it a step in the right direction for my rehabilitation, but it left me wide open to having another vision in my sleep. The scar on Alastor's forehead was another link into his past, that much I knew. Since it seemed he wouldn't be letting me touch it any time soon, I had to trust that my abilities would give me insight into the memories that were connected to it.

* * *

In the wee hours of the morning, I was finally given an opportunity to get some rest. Having a fair portion of the south side's population in the hotel had some major effects on my personal routine, namely that everyone in the building all of a sudden wanted readings from me. I was ready to settle down at around two o'clock in the morning, but the sheer number of those demons who wanted insight from my cards, or from me reading their palms, kept me up until about 4:30.

Naturally, it was something that I had to run by Charlie and Vaggie first, before I just started conducting my readings all willy-nilly, and as the both of them had already gotten themselves tucked into bed, I had to decide which readings could be done with good intentions, and which ones I had to skip all together. Most just wanted to know if they were going to heal properly, or if their families and loved ones would be all right, but there were a few with ill intentions that I could sense that tried slipping through the cracks. It wasn't how I normally conducted business, but these people were desperate. As their leader, I couldn't just let them fend for themselves.

When my last customer finally left my room, I picked myself up and locked the door behind them. My brain felt like it had turned to mush, and I felt like I could curl up just about anywhere and pass out in an instant. Hitting the lights, I managed to carry myself to my bed and crawl under the covers. I'm pretty sure I was out before my head even hit the pillows.

Every now and then, everyone has one of those nights when it feels like the time between when one falls asleep and when they wake up is lost. For me, this was one of those nights. No visions, no dreams, not even a void of darkness to accompany me as I slept. All I knew is that I was out the moment I laid down, only to awaken several hours later to a knock on my door.

I managed to get a look at Pentagram City's clocktower just as it struck noon. Shit!

I made my way to the door as quickly as possible, and threw it open. Charlie stood there with a stack of hotcakes in her hands, and a look of concern on her face.

"We missed you at breakfast," she said, "I figured you might be hungry."

Starving was more like it. I had been so caught up in all of the readings I'd been giving yesterday that I hadn't even bothered with dinner, so my last meal had been yesterday's breakfast. The number of brutal injuries and the smell of blood that happened as a result of the attack had sent my appetite flying south, anyways, so being bombarded with the overwhelming scent of cinnamon and warm maple syrup made my hunger return with a vengeance.

Taking the plate from her hands, I sat myself down at the corner table and eagerly dug in. Charlie invited herself in to join me, sitting on the opposite side of the table propped up on her elbows with her fingers laced.

"I heard you had a pretty busy night, last night," she piped up, "Angel say just about everyone wanted to get a reading from you."

"Yeah," I replied, "I wanted to run that by you guys first before I did anything, but it was the middle of the night. I sorted them out though. A lot of them were just worried about the attack, but there were a few sour apples in the mix."

"I know. A lot of our guests have seemed more at ease since they came to see you. Which is why I wanted to make you an offer."

I paused, "What's the offer?"

"How would you like to be the hotel's personal guidance counselor?"

It took every ounce of concentration to keep myself from choking on my breakfast. Guidance counselor? I wasn't exactly qualified to take on such a role. I may give advice on the daily, and did my best to guide people in the right direction, but apart from piecing together messages from a handful of cards with pictures on them, and listening to my intuition, I wasn't what one would necessarily call a therapist.

"What brought this about, all of a sudden?" I inquired.

Charlie let out a sigh, "I have a few people that could probably use it. Angel's going nuts trying to stay one hundred percent clean, and Alastor had to pay up this morning for downing three pots of coffee, and messing with some of the other guests."

I couldn't help but laugh. I figured it'd only be a matter of time before the Radio Demon cracked and got himself caught up in some kind of mischief. He did seem to be struggling quite a bit yesterday morning when I found him at the front desk. I guess even all-powerful demon overlords caved in sometimes.

"Why not?" I finally said, "Sounds like it'll be a fun challenge."

Charlie let out a relieved sigh, "Cool beans... because I could _really_ use your help!"

My breakfast was practically yeeted across the room as Charlie threw herself across the table and grabbed me by my shoulders.

"I'm freaking out, June! I am freaking the fuck out!"

"I can see that," I replied curtly, trying to keep myself from getting whiplash as she shook my shoulders, "Might I ask why?"

"Well... I guess making several trips to the south side with my dad's car drew a lot of attention. My parents caught wind of what happened yesterday, and have decided that they're going to be paying the hotel a visit later this afternoon."

My stomach dropped, "Your parents are coming _here_? _Today_?"

Like many of the other demons that dwelled in the lower levels of Hell's society, I hadn't been introduced to the royal family. Lilith and Lucifer didn't make that many public appearances, and when they did, it was normally the overlords they bothered presenting themselves to, if it wasn't just a brief publicity stunt that was shown on the news. I was lucky enough to have meet Charlie, as not many other demons could say the same, but the possibility of meeting the king and queen themselves? Would I be able to handle such an encounter?

Above all, why was _Charlie _freaking out about this? These were her parents she was talking about. She knew them a hell of a lot better than anyone of us in the hotel, especially me.

"What should I do?" Charlie asked, finally pulling herself off of my shoulders, "We haven't gotten everything worked out around here yet. If my dad sees this place, I don't think I'll ever hear the end of it!"

"Charlie, relax," I said, standing up from the table and dusting myself off, "Come with me. I think you need to see something."

Curious, Charlie followed behind me as I strode out into the hallway. I might have been in nothing but the flannel jammies Alastor had slipped into the clothing bag he provided me, but I wasn't exactly concerned about my appearance at the moment. All of that could wait.

We walked from the hotel's top level down to the lobby. There were plenty of demons that were up and about, greeting us and waving cheerfully as we passed by. I even spotted Fat Nuggets getting pampered by Angel and a few other demons, who had smuggled some of their lunch out of the dining room, and were letting him eat out of their hands. I couldn't help but keep a lookout, making sure Alastor wasn't stalking the poor pig from afar. He was nowhere to be seen, but I was sure that didn't mean anything.

The hotel lobby was alive with activity as Husk picked up where Charlie had left off last night at checking people in. There were groups of every kind of demon under the sun that were sitting around and socializing with one another, or just going about doing their own thing.

I stopped just short of the hotel's front doors and spun Charlie around to face the bustling activity happening around us.

"What do you see?" I asked her.

"Uh... nothing?"

"Really? Because, that's what I saw when I first walked in here three days ago. Look around you. Everywhere I turn, I see sinners. More than I can count. Every last one of them decided to come here with me, rather than face whatever was awaiting them back in the south side of the city. I don't know about you, but that sounds like progress to me."

Charlie seemed to brighten up at my words as she lifted her head to have a good look around. Even Husk gave us a wave from his seat at the check-in counter, still looking a bit grim with his glass of water, but still welcoming in a way. His energy could be quite charming when he wasn't drunk.

"You're right," Charlie stated, "This place is finally starting to get up off of the ground! I'm not a complete failure. I'm _not _a complete failure!"

And with that, I watched the princess of Hell skip merrily throughout the ground floor of the hotel, spreading her joy to anyone who would listen. I knew that not everyone here would be a raving success story. Some might decide to just go back to their homes once they healed up, but I knew that there were a lot more demons here that followed me back for the chance at working towards redemption. A lot of these sinners were the ones that didn't fully deserve to be in Hell. I knew it, they knew it; we all knew it.

In the end, I was sure that Charlie would be able to make the Hazbin a success, and she'd be able to rub Lucifer's nose in it...

And then proceed with sing a song about it.


	9. Chapter 9: Counseling Sessions

**Chapter 9: Counseling Sessions**

"So, what seems to be the problem?"

Angel Dust sat before me, sprawled over the chair that was sat in front of the desk in the office. Every limb twitched, and an agitated look had settled itself on the spider demon's face. Fat Nuggets was sitting on his lap, nudging one if his hands with his snout, and it seemed to take a lot of concentration for Angel to be able to reach up and pet him without chucking the pig across the room in annoyance.

On the desk in front of me was a plastic bag that was full to bursting with PCP. I couldn't help but wonder if this was the amount he consumed on a daily basis. From the looks of the bag, along with some of the withdrawal symptoms he seemed to be experiencing, it didn't look like Angel had taken any of it, but the very fact that he had it in his possession meant that he had broken a rule.

"What does it look like the problem is?" he grumbled, "It's sittin' right there in front of ya."

"Right..." I picked up the bag, pinching the white powder between my fingers through the plastic, "Just how long have you been addicted to this stuff?"

Angel Dust laughed, "Are you kiddin'? I was born into the mafia. Chances are that I was suckling that stuff straight from my ma's titties as a baby!"

His voice might have sounded cheerful and teasing, but I couldn't help the aching feeling that struck my chest as I thought about that scenario. Even I remembered the days where I didn't have to rely on nicotine to get through the day. They may have been days filled with frustration, tears, and a little bit of homicide, but in a way that life had been a lot better than looking around for a pack of cigarettes like a total drug addict. To think that Angel Dust could have been born an addict, and had struggled with it his entire life... It was sad to think about.

"So, you don't remember a time when you _weren't _doing drugs?" I inquired.

"Not really," Angel replied, "Started smokin' at age ten, had my first bottle of booze at age twelve, did my first line of coke at age fourteen, and I just kept that ball rollin' from there."

"So, why are you here then? I mean, I get that getting to live somewhere that's rent-free is a pretty sweet gig, but what's the point if you don't intend on trying to go clean?"

Angel glowered at me as he crossed his arms, clearly offended by my question.

"You're just as bad as Vaggie," he muttered, "None of you see it when I'm actually tryin' to stay clean. All you broads see are my mistakes."

I looked down at the bag of PCP that was still in my hands. I had never smoked anything more potent than marijuana, so hard drugs had never really appealed to me, but I always wondered what the appeal was. What made people keep on abusing substances like cocaine, heroin, and methamphetamine? What made them keep coming back, despite everything that it cost?

"Maybe you can explain this to me," I piped up, "Which side effect of PCP makes it so appealing to you? What keeps pulling you back aside from the addiction?"

"Well, the psychedelic effects are pretty nice, but..." Angel cut himself off. A look came over his face, like he was recalling a bad memory; a look full of depression, disappointment, and dread, "Well... it also came in handy whenever my pop wanted to beat my ass."

My heart sank even further, "You didn't have a good relationship with your father?"

"Ha, far from it! Ol' Henronin hates just about everything that I became. He doesn't like the fact that I'm gay, or a porn star, or that I'm fuckin' _pink_! Like I had the power to decide whether or not I was fuckin' _pink _when I came down here! Coulda been any other color, but _no_. Make me pink, and he instantly has a problem!"

I let Angel take his time at venting out his frustrations. It all seemed to come together. He didn't dabble with drugs just for shits and giggles. He was stressed, upset, and traumatized by everything his father had put him through. I had heard Henronin's name in passing, but I'd never seen him. Now, I was pretty sure that I didn't want to. How long had Angel been holding in these feelings? How much PCP, crack, and sex had he used trying to forget his past?

After several minutes of yelling, in both English and Italian, and punching and kicking the wall a few times, Angel finally settled down and held Fat Nuggets against his chest. He looked like he wanted to cry, but at the same time seemed to be trying his best to hold it in to save face.

"I'm sorry," he said, brushing a tear away from one of his eyes, "I didn't mean to go off like that. I've had that weighing on me for a while now."

"Please," I sighed, "Feel free to vent to me any time. I think that's kind of my job here, as well as trying to find a healthier alternative to helping you cope with these feelings."

Angel scoffed, "Like what?"

"Well, you mentioned that you enjoy the psychedelic effects of PCP. What would those be? Image distortion? Colors? Weird hallucinations?"

"Mainly the colors. They kinda remind me of aquariums, a little bit."

I quirked a brow in intrigue, "Aquariums?"

"Yeah, you know, like how all the colors just kinda swim around and reflect off of each other along with the fish? Man, I could sit in front of the fish tanks at the pet store for hours just watchin' fish swim around!"

I smiled as I stood up and tossed the bag of PCP into the closet with the rest of the contraband.

"I think I know how I might be able to help you..."

* * *

Charlie, Vaggie, Alastor and I looked on in amusement as we watched Angel Dust from the doorway to his room. The spider demon was sprawled out on his bed, staring in awe at the wall across from him.

Where there was once a television he was watching porn on there was now a massive aquarium. About a dozen tiny fish in a rainbow of colors darted in and out of their coral hideouts, their scales flashing in the light that hung over the tank. All together, I had conjured up enough guppies, platties, and tetras to keep the enclosure busy, along with a couple of colorful snails to clean up after them. And the entire time, Angel stayed glued to where he was, watching in wide-eyed wonder as the fish just swam around, doing their thing.

"You really think this is gonna work?" Vaggie asked.

I chuckled, "It's working right now, isn't it?"

"Hm, fair point..."

I leaned against the frame of the door, trying to get my bearings. Using magic required a lot of energy. The amout of magic it took to create a fully-functioning aquarium in the span of a couple of minutes left me feeling tired and drained. It was the price I had to pay in order to possess that much power; the power to summon, build, and destroy as I commanded it. I didn't use it all that often now, but back in the day it was the entire reason that I was as powerful as I was. It was what made me the monster that I was back when I was alive.

I recouped just in time to see Alastor eyeing Fat Nuggets and start in the pig's direction. He had the same air about him as a cat did when it stalked a mouse; slow, quiet, and filled with murderous intent. I hooked him by the collar of his suit before he could make it two steps into Angel Dust's room.

"You're next, coffee man!" I stated, pulling him back into the hallway.

I was met with little resistance as Alastor and I made the walk back towards the office. He wasn't as jittery and out of control as he had been the other day when he had loaded himself up with twenty pots of coffee, but the caffeine buzz was definitely still there. Alastor almost immediately started fidgeting in his seat as he sat down, tapping his fingers rhythmically against the surface of the desk as one of his legs bounced restlessly.

However, as I looked him over, I couldn't help but feel a touch of concern for the Radio Demon. Dark circles hung around his eyes, giving him an almost sickly appearance. His eyes were bright and alert, and his smile was there, but everything else about him made him look drained and worn down. Did he not get any sleep last night? Was he actually sick? Or was there more to this that I didn't know about?

With all the questions that were starting to stack up in my mind, I knew one thing for certain: Alastor most likely wasn't willing to discuss any of it with me.

"I hear you went on quite the coffee binge this morning," I started, "Care to explain yourself?"

Alastor gave a halfhearted shrug, "_It was only three pots..._"

"Right, but you know the rules. Two eight ounce cups per day. That's it."

A metallic groan rattled inside of Alastor's throat, "_I'm afraid it takes a lot more than that to get this radio host going in the morning, my dear. Who says I have to play by the rules?_"

I couldn't help but smirk as I crossed my arms, "Charlie says, and if I recall correctly, you _agreed_ to it."

My mind went back to when Charlie had been firing off her list of rules in the dining room. We all had to agree to follow these rules to a T, or we weren't permitted to stay at the hotel. Work here, yes, but residents specifically had to abide by the rules in order to stay. I was sure that with as powerful as he was, and how much territory he owned, Alastor had his own house somewhere in Hell, yet he had decided to take up residence in one of the hotel's master suites. Maybe it was so he could keep a better eye on the place, but it still left him bound by the rules of the hotel.

"Tell me a little bit about what your sleep schedule is like," I said, "What time do you normally turn in for the night?"

Alastor hummed as he tapped his chin in thought, "_Midnight, I'd say. Somewhere between midnight and 1AM._"

"And what time do you wake up?"

"_At precisely 6AM every morning._ _Someone has to get the hotel ready for the day, and who better to do it than I?_"

"Do you take any naps throughout the day?"

"_Rarely__. Why do you ask?_"

I blinked at him. If I had to envision what I might have looked like in the wee hours of this morning after I had finish with my readings, how Al looked now would probably be it. Was he even _aware_ of how exhausted he looked right now?

"I'm just curious," I replied, "You're looking a bit rough today."

Alastor shot me a questioning look. I pointed out all of the things I had noticed; the dark circles, his sickly visage, and just the general air of tiredness that surrounded him. I didn't want to say it was insomnia, as I knew plenty of demons that managed to get by on a five to six hour sleeping schedule, but there was something going on that wasn't benefiting him, and most likely increased his reliance on caffeine to keep him going.

My mind went back to what Husk had told me last night. Alastor had more problems than he knew how to handle. With everything that I had seen thus far, I was sure that this was just the tip of the iceberg.

"_Well, we all had quite the busy day, yesterday,_" Alastor stated, "_With everything that's happened, I'm sure we're all feeling a little rundown._"

Bingo! He might have said it with beaming charisma, and seemed to be directing the issue towards everyone other than himself, but I was able to make out the confession hiding behind all of that. He felt rundown. He was tired, but was still trying to perform his regular duties as per usual. He needed rest. Hell, he pretty _wanted_ to rest, but he didn't want to put his duties on hold in order to get it. A classic example of a raving workaholic.

"Why don't we try this," I piped up, "Turn in an hour early tonight, and wake up at around seven. That should give you plenty of time to rest up, and decrease your dependence on coffee a little bit. Try sticking to this schedule for about a week, and we'll see where you're at. Sound fair?"

"_Hmm_, _fair enough!_"

Alastor stood up from his chair and started towards the door.

"By the way," I spoke up, stopping him in his tracks, "About last night... I'm sorry. Whatever happened, it really wasn't any of my business. I hope there's no hard feelings."

Turning on his heel, Alastor leaned towards me and shot me a grin, "_Not at all, darlin'! I suppose I overreacted a touch, myself. The smell of blood was thicker than pea soup throughout the entire hotel, and, well, it's just exhilarating and me! I guess you could say I I wasn't in the right mindset for anybody to get all touchy-feely._"

I chuckled, "Especially after that moose demon took a swipe at you. I've learned my lesson, I promise."

"_Ha ha! You know, Miss Charms, if you'd like to know about anything that pertains to me, you need only ask."_

The look that came across my face must have been priceless. Maybe Niffty had been right all along. All of the questions that I piled up in my mind, all of the answers I sought, and all I had to do was ask. Was it really that easy to debunk the mystery that surrounded the Radio Demon?

... No. No... He'd probably make it as much of a pain in the ass as anything else that pertained to him. No doubt there was plenty of information that he didn't want me knowing. Tapping into that information was going to take a lot of patience and picking his brain. If I wanted answers, _real _answers, then Al would probably make it as difficult for me to get them as possible.

"I'll take a rain check on that," I said, "Let's just focus on getting your coffee addiction under control and your sleep schedule back on track."

Alastor gave a polite nod before slipping out of the office. An inexplicable feeling of calm washed over me as I was left alone with my thoughts. It almost felt like I was an equal to Alastor, like we could talk to each other without all that baggage in the way; the baggage of the Radio Demon's reputation. Like I could be on equal footing with him. There were definitely some moments where he'd remind everyone that he was a force to be reckoned with, but overall I didn't feel as afraid of him as I had when we'd first met.

Of course, I couldn't help but wonder what it all meant. Why would an entity that got off on other people's misfortune provide clothing to a lowly street urchin? Why would a demon overlord with unfathomable power pass down a piece of his territory to a sinner whose powers were dwarfed by his own? And why would the Radio Demon, a man shrouded in total mystery, want to open himself up to someone lifting that veil? What did Alastor have to gain from all of that? Was he doing it out of convenience? Did he see something in me that I had yet to notice? Or was he simply tired of being this pillar of power and fear, this sort of boogeyman, and was trying to break away from that reputation?

As my mind started loading up with more questions than I knew how to deal with, a movement at the edge of the desk caught my eye. It was a little difficult to make it out, at first, due to the dim lighting, but there was no mistaking its identity as it slithered up to me. A forked tongue flicked out of its triangular-shaped head as it stared unblinking at me with a pair of beady yellow eyes.

A snake. A beautiful snake, at that; a steely grey in color with black stripes around its body. Slowly, it slithered up to where I was sitting and lifted its head to scope me out. It had a look of curiosity in its eyes as I let it inch its way up and around my shoulders. I ran a hand down the reptile's long, slender body, marveling at the smoothness of its scales. I loved animals, but snakes had to be my absolute favorite.

"My, my! He normally doesn't warm up to strangers that quickly."

The sudden voice nearly made me leap out of my skin. I wheeled around to find a tall woman standing at the foot of my desk. Her long, platinum blonde hair practically reached the floor, and the sterling silver color of her eyes pierced right through the fabric of my soul. She radiated an aura of dominance, and had to be the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life. The portraits Charlie had of her throughout the hotel really didn't do her justice, and my heart just about stopped right then and there as the realization began to dawn on me.

I was now in the presence of the Queen of Hell, Lilith Magne.

I sat there speechless as she slid herself into one of the chairs in front of me, shooting me a smile that would have made any man's knees weak. I found myself losing myself in her details, from the way she sat with her legs elegantly crossed as her midnight black dress caressed her thighs to the way her long, ebony lashes fluttered whenever she blinked. I wasn't gay, necessarily, but I would've been lying if I said I didn't want this woman to do some downright _naughty _things to me. Fuck!

I managed to pull myself out of my trance and cleared my throat.

"You must be Charlie's mother," I started, "It's an honor to meet you, you're Majesty. I'm--"

"Juniper Charms, I know. Charlie has told me quite a bit about you," Lilith reached towards me, unraveling the snake that was coiled around my shoulders, "She's seemed to have built up a lot more confidence since you came here. I also hear that you're a pretty extraordinary fortune teller."

My heart beat wildly in my chest. I didn't give a flying fuck if she found this out from Charlie, or if she had somehow picked up on my reputation through word on the street. If the Queen of Hell was about to ask me for any sort of reading, I was done. My heart was going to explode!

"Oh, I'm... alright," I stuttered out, "Just a bunch of looking at cards and looking at lines. It's nothing, really."

Lilith let out a light chuckle, "Quite the humble creature, aren't you? Perhaps I should test your skills, and then well see if you're really as good as they say."

And... cue internal screaming. Aside from the fact that my body was heating up like it was the middle of mating season, something told me that doing this would be a very bad idea. I was sure that all it would take is one rather unsatisfactory reading for Lilith to have a reason to decapitate me. And God forbid it if she wanted a palm reading, where any and all information about her would be at my disposal.

"Eh, what kind of reading are we talking about here?" I inquired, "Tarot? Palm? I have a crystal ball I can use, if that tickles your fancy."

"I didn't realize I had so many options," Lilith stated, "Surprise me. I'm willing to go with what you think is best."

I gave a slight nod and stood up from my seat, "Please excuse me for just a minute while I fetch some supplies."

I strode out of the office, the hairs on my arms standing on end as Lilith's eyes followed me out the door. I made it to my room in what felt like a single stride, dashing up to the top floor so fast that others passed by in a blur. My head spun as my lungs threatened to collapse as I tried to get my bearings.

I knew Lilith Magne was beautiful, but I never imagined she was so beautiful that she could make me feel gayer than a three-dollar bill! I needed to pull myself together, because the _last_ thing I wanted was to be caught making goo goo eyes at her... _especially _by her husband!


	10. Chapter 10: Dealmaking

**Chapter 10: ****Dealmaking**

It probably took all of five minutes for me to grab what I needed and hightail it back to the office. I had my tarot deck in one hand, my crystal ball in the other, and the pockets of my jeans were stuffed with almost every travel-sized crystal I owned. My legs and lungs were burning, but I was sure I'd have even bigger problems to worry about if I left Lilith waiting too long.

Lilith was as I had left her, still sitting before the desk in her chair with her legs crossed as she leaned on her elbows. Just like when I had left, her eyes followed me from the door back to my seat on the other side of the desk. Goosebumps raced down my arms as I tried to avoid falling over myself. If I could avoid humiliating myself any more than I felt like I already had, things would be just peachy.

"You sure are light on your feet," Lilith commented, "You didn't waste any time whatsoever."

I laughed nervously as I sat down, "Wouldn't it be a crime if I left Her Majesty waiting?"

"Not at all! I understand you must be quite the busy bee around here. Waiting a few extra minutes wouldn't have killed me."

I managed a polite smile to compensate for my lack of a response. Laying my supplies out in front of me, my hands instantly gravitated towards my crystal ball. The orb was very unique amongst those of its kind. While most were made up entirely of quartz crystal and were almost completely see-through, mine was composed of labradorite, filling the ball with a mosaic of blacks, greens, and metallic blues. Some days, I would just stare into it for hours on end, lost in the various images it had to show me.

"How lovely," Lilith commented, "Can you really use that to see into the future?"

"Past, present, _and _future," I responded, "And a lot more than that, depending on the kind of reading I'm doing. What would you like to know?"

Lilith tapped her chin in thought as her eyes seemed to search for something she could gain some insight on. Odds were that there wasn't much that she didn't know, since she had a tendency to keep tabs on everything that was happening in her realm. She must have come up with something, though, as she folded her hands and shot me a smile.

"There's this maid that works for me," she said, "There's a rumor going around that she's been stealing jewelry and other items from my dressing room. I have noticed a few things of mine have come up missing, and at the same time she has been able to indulge herself with a bounty of drugs and nice things. Has she been stealing my things and pawning them off in order to obtain the money for them, or is there something that I'm overlooking?"

My throat went dry. Everything about that situation sounded like it was going to have some pretty bad repercussions for this maid if it turned out to be true. The punishments that the royals dished out on those who wronged them were on a legendary level of terrifying. I heard Lucifer once skinned a man alive and played around with his internal organs for an hour before forcing the man to eat his own intestines. All of that, and only because he had poked fun at the outfit the king had been wearing that particular day.

What kind of punishment would be in store for someone who had stolen from the queen, and had sold the items for the money to indulge in some of Hell's finest luxuries?

Nervously, I lifted my hands and curled my fingers around my crystal ball, the tips of my claws hovering less than an inch away from its surface. My eyes scanned the details of the orb until they honed in on a sweeping arc of black that seemed to cut through a bright patch of the metallic blue in the labradorite. As I stared deeper into it, I could make out the image of a female demon in a maid's uniform. An aura of greed radiated off of her like a musky cloud, and I sensed that the pockets of her dress were lined with all manner of sterling silver earrings, gold chains, and precious gems. Her mouth moved, and even though I couldn't hear what she was saying, I could read her lips.

_"I don't get paid enough for this shit!"_

I pulled my hands away, and leaned back in my chair.

"Well?" Lilith piped up, "Did you see anything?"

As much as I didn't want to play a role in deciding someone's guilt, I knew I couldn't very well lie to the queen's face.

I nodded, "She's robbing you blind. She seems to think that you don't pay her enough for the work that she does. It looks like she keeps everything she manages to take in the pockets of her dress when she decides to steal something."

Lilith nodded calmly in understanding, but I could still see a hint of murderous intent lingering behind her eyes, "I suppose we shall have to rectify that when I return home. What about my husband? What sort of mischief is he getting himself into?"

I turned my crystal ball over in my hand until a flash of green from it caught my eye. An image of Lucifer manifested within it; a man with the same rosy cheeks and gleaming yellow eyes as Charlie, clad in a white overcoat and a comically large top hat. He appeared to be sharing a laugh with someone on one of the upper levels of the hotel.

_"I suppose I can do that,"_ he seemed to say, _"You have yourself a deal!"_

A tall, slender silhouette strode up to him. It took a moment for the image to clear up, but I already knew who the second person was just from the fluffy ears on his head and the microphone stand he had grasped tightly in one of his hands. Alastor.

My immediate reaction wasn't so much shock as it was, well, laughter. Alastor towered, and I mean _towered_, over Lucifer by at least two feet. Enough that the Radio Demon had to stoop down slightly just to shake the man's hand. Most likely, I had a good couple of inches on him, as well. The last thing I expected the King of Hell and the almighty Prince of Darkness to be was _short_!

"What's so amusing?" Lilith inquired, quirking a brow in intrigue.

"Oh, it's nothing," I replied, "I didn't know Lucifer and Al were such good friends."

Lilith frowned slightly, "Al?"

"Alastor."

First names didn't seem to be Lilith's forte as her confusion deepened.

"The Radio Demon?" I said questioningly, "Tall, red, and cheezy?"

"Ah! I know, now. I'm sorry. He normally goes by other names around the palace. Deer, Deer Boy, Happy Deer, sometimes we just call him Red. I guess I just wasn't expecting you two to be on a first-name basis with each other. Oh! Are you two perhaps..."

Lilith waggled her eyebrows suggestively as she shot me a smile. An intense heat exploded throughout my face at the implication, and I became so flustered that I nearly sent my deck of tarot cards that was sitting beside me scattering.

"I-It isn't like that, really!" I stuttered, "We're just friends! That's all!"

Lilith laughed with amusement, "I'm sorry! You're just so easy to mess with, I couldn't help myself!"

I hid my face behind a thick curtain of dreads as I pulled my hair over my cheeks. Sheesh! First this woman had me falling all over her, and now she was getting me all hot and bothered over Alastor? What's next?

"I already have a mate," I explained, flipping my dreads back over my head and slumping in my seat, "Besides, Al really isn't my type. Too mischievous, not to mention he doesn't seem to really be looking for anyone, himself."

"Well, you got me there. Eighty six years in this realm, and I have yet to see the Radio Demon look at someone with the slightest hint of romance or lust."

And I was pretty sure it was going to be another eighty six years, times infinity, until _that_ happened. Flashes of the vision I'd had a couple of nights ago appeared in my mind. Alastor didn't want to be with anybody. That's just how he preferred it.

"It looks like Alastor made some kind of deal with Lucifer," I piped up, "That's gonna be a problem."

Lilith rolled her eyes and groaned, "Again? I've told Luci a thousand times to lay off on the dealmaking!"

My stomach dropped. Again? Again, as in Al had made deals with Lucifer before?

I knew from firsthand experience that making a deal with _any _demon was a big no-no. It wasn't over once both parties had fulfilled their end of the bargain. It was _never_ over. Those who accepted a deal dealt by a demon were forever marked and eternally in debt to the dealmaker, and the dealmaker could decide when and how many times they could cash in on favors from them, if the debt was deep enough. A deal was only officially over when one of the parties was killed off. I highly doubted Lucifer would be one to put himself in that sort of situation, so it was more than likely Alastor had been the one to accept terms from Lucifer.

Charlie and Vaggie were going to be _pissed_ when they found out... _I__f _they found out.

"I guess I'll have to have a word with my husband once we're done here," Lilith sighed, "For now, I'm very interested in those cards you have there."

My eyes fell to my tarot deck, and I felt a smile tug on the corners of my mouth, "Would you like to take a look at them?"

"Certainly!"

I scooped up the cards and casually passed them to her. It didn't take more than five seconds of flipping through the deck before a look of bewilderment settled itself on her face.

"They're... blank," she said, "I don't see anything on these cards."

"That's because these cards are very unique," I replied, "The bond between a tarot reader and their deck is very personal, regardless of whether the reader is human or demon. The same is especially true with this deck. The only side others can see is the back of the card. Only I can see the images on the front of them, and the images manifest in a way that is intimately connected with my soul."

"But why?"

I took the cards back from Lilith and shuffled them contentedly, feeling the magic in them boil and flourish in my hands, "Let's just say that there are some types of readings that aren't meant for the faint of heart. If a reading goes south, the names and faces of the cards become embedded in the minds of my clients, and they become permanently tied to the fate they've decided upon. This way, the only one plagued by the cards is me, and the client still maintains the ability to change their fate if they choose to."

"So, hypothetically speaking, what would you do if the cards predicted the death of the person that was getting the reading? How do you handle that kind of situation?"

A slight chill passed through me. The sad truth was that I got those kinds of readings a lot more often than people thought, especially around the time the extermination would happen. And the worst part about that was it only took two specific cards to condemn a client to death: the Ten of Swords, and the Death card. Two cards that, when I was alive, I never once saw appear in a reading together, but with Hell having one day out of every year that was dedicated towards the mass killings of people all over the realm, those two cards started pairing up together _a lot_ more often.

"All I can do is give the person the advice they need in order to avoid that fate," I explained, "It's an unspoken law amongst tarot readers that we _never_ outright say that someone is going to die. That way, the person that's getting the reading has a chance to change their fortune, and can still maintain their peace of mind."

I sat my cards down on the desk. With a snap of my fingers, three cards hopped from the deck and laid themselves out before me. As I peered into faces of each card, their images slowly emerged from their blank surfaces.

The Empress; upright, the Ten of Cups; upright, and The Lovers; reversed.

"What do you see?" Lilith asked, staring in vain at the cards.

Several images passed through my mind's eye, but they were all almost virtually the same. Scenes of Lilith's past interactions with Charlie flashed by. At times, they'd be sharing a smile. Other times, Lilith would be comforting her. They were images full to bursting with love, support, and nurture.

But a shadow loomed just behind that; a stifling presence that seemed to choke that feeling out of existence. Lingering in the background of every tender smile and warm embrace was a cold scowl. With every word of encouragement would come one of ridicule spat from a sharp tongue. With every drop of motherly love from Lilith came a drop of toxic disapproval from Lucifer as The Lovers refused to see eye to eye.

"Juniper? Are you feeling all right, dear?"

I snapped back to my senses to find Lilith's staring at me with heavy concern as she rested one of her hands over mine whilst the other came to rest against my cheek.

"Yeah," I replied weakly, snatching a shard of obsidian from my pile of crystals and rubbing my thumb over it, "I'm all right."

"You're pale," she commented, "And your face feels like it's burning up."

I rested the back of my hand against my forehead. It was definitely warm and a bit clammy, but I'd dealt with worse. Negative energy could hit hard when it wanted to, and as I hadn't slept properly and had been going without cigarettes for the past day and a half or so, I wasn't exactly the best shape to be handling the level of negative energy that Lucifer emitted. Luckily, obsidian absorbed negative energy fairly quickly, and little by little my head started to clear.

"What did you see?" Lilith inquired, settling back in her chair, "Was it something bad?"

"Not necessarily," I said, "Charlie wasn't kidding around when she said that you were a beacon of love and support to her."

"She said that?"

"She says that it's because of you that she was able to open up this hotel in the first place. Your love and support is essentially what keeps her going. That much was evident in the cards."

A touched smile spread across Lilith's lips before falling into a frown, "So, what happened then? You look like you saw a ghost along the way."

"I guess you could say that," I stated, placing my obsidian crystal back in with the others, "You and your husband don't exactly see eye to eye, do you? On more things than just this hotel."

Lilith scowled and crossed her arms, "Well, you aren't wrong. I've resided in Hell for eons; long before Lucifer fell from Heaven. A pure-blooded demon and an angel God crafted by hand are as polar opposite as you can get, but we were all we had. Charlie was born one hundred and fifty years ago, if that tells you how long it took for us to finally get it on."

I let out a laugh, "What did you do? Avoid him until then?"

"Pretty much, but the more sinners we started getting, the more potential there was for something to go wrong, and I worried that he might be overthrown. So I convinced him that Hell needed an heir. Don't get me wrong, we both love Charlie to death, but he and I have our differences when it comes to what we expect from her. He wants her to be this cold, heartless antichrist that can destroy humanity and crush Heaven underfoot. I just want her to be happy, and if redeeming sinners is what makes her happy, of course I'm willing to support her."

Lilith let out a sigh. That must have been something she'd been keeping in for decades, now. She seemed much lighter, almost at peace. Most of Hell's denizens weren't the most optimistic of sorts, and tended to look upon it like it was a cruel joke. It made me wonder who the angel here really was. Lilith or Lucifer?

"I'm sorry," the queen piped up, "I must sound like a fool to you."

"Not at all!" I responded, "You're more like a breath of fresh air, than anything."

The two of us exited the office as I offered to give Lilith an official tour of the hotel. It was nearing supper time, and chances were that Alastor already had dinner cooking in the kitchen. The massive groups of demons I'd brought back from the south side had finally been sorted out, checked in, and settled in their rooms. Things finally felt like they were coming together.

Lilith and I only made it halfway through the lobby before I was stopped by a cold, slender hand landing on one of my shoulders. The action was so sudden that I nearly jumped out of my boots. I felt claws dig into my skin through my shirt as a deep voice growled from behind me.

"_There's _my favorite little witch!"

My shoulder was almost torn off as I turned around, and came face to face with the wide brim of a white top hat. My eyes drifted down to meet the yellow ones staring up at me. The sharp-toothed smile that greeted me was almost identical to that of Alastor's, only rather than being an unhealthy, coffee-stained yellow in color, these teeth were almost as white as freshly fallen snow.

All I can say is I was glad I had seen him in my crystal ball first and gotten my hysterical laughter out of the way, because I don't think this encounter would have ended well if I collapsed before the King of Hell in a fit of giggles.

I took a low bow, "Good evening, you're Majesty."

Lucifer yanked his claws out of the meat of my shoulder and rolled his eyes, "Why so formal, June? You and me, we go way back! Just call me Lucifer."

I stared at him in confusion. Sure, I was no stranger to the faces of the royal family. I had seen Lucifer appear in newspapers, magazines, and on my television, but I had not once seen his face any time before my life ended back in the living world. 'Favorite little witch'? 'We go way back'? What was all that supposed to mean?

"You don't remember, do you?" Lucifer asked, an annoyed look settling on his face.

I shook my head, shrinking back as I met his hard gaze, "I'm sorry. Can't say that I do."

Lucifer tisked as he hefted his cane in one of his hands, and slowly began pacing the floor. If I had to imagine the amount of dread and anxiety the south side had felt when Alastor had done the same, just seconds before he had appointed me as their new leader, how I felt now as I waited for the King of Hell to speak would probably be it. He looked to be about as offended as I imagined he'd be if I had spat on his shoes. I was only being honest. As far as I knew, Lucifer and I had never officially met in person until now...

As far as I knew...

"Well, this just won't do at all, will it?" he chided.

In one smooth motion, he turned on his heel, approaching me with purpose in his strides. Lucifer tore one of his gloves from his hands, and wrapped his fingers around my left wrist. A white-hot burning pain shot up my forearm, dropping me onto my knees. My teeth clenched as I stifled a scream, squeezing my eyes shut as my mind filled with fog. I fell forward and felt myself land against a bony chest as Lucifer's voice rang in my ears.

"Perhaps _this _will refresh your memory..."

A very familiar face sitting in a very familiar room entered my mind. A girl with long, dreaded brown hair sat on her knees in a dilapidated bedroom. A thick circle of salt and blazing red and white candles surrounded her as she gazed down at a heavy leather book on her lap. Her protective circle sat inside of a pentagram that spanned almost the entire area of the room. In the circle with her was a single, red apple and a ceremonial dagger made out of a sharpened shard of blue calcite; the same shade of light blue as the feathers that lined my wings.

I watched as the girl drug the sharpened edge of the dagger across her left palm, and held her hand outside of the circle of salt. Six drops of blood fell from her hand onto the floor, soaking into the wood before a thick pillar of smoke manifested before her.

A black gloved hand emerged from the smoke, wrapping itself almost lovingly around her own. Slowly, the smoke started to clear up, revealing a familiar, white-clad figure.

"Well, well, well! If it isn't one of my favorite customers!"

Standing before the girl, with his boots just inches away from the circle of salt, was Lucifer.

Oh, yeah. It was all coming back to me, now. This girl wasn't just any old mortal. Between the dreadlocks, piercing blue eyes, and similar, dingy black V-neck t-shirt, the resemblance was almost uncanny. This girl was me.

"And what can I do for you today, my sweet little mortal?" Lucifer asked happily, "You low on money, again? Or did someone else decide to piss you off?"

I never returned his enthusiastic smile. Instead, a single word fell from my mouth with the same amount of finality as a death sentence.

"Power."

Power. The power to tear the little hick town I resided in down to its foundation, anyways. I found myself cursing myself as the scene unfolded. I knew I had made a deal with a demon to obtain my powers, but I had somehow _completely_ forgottenthat it was _Lucifer_ who gave me that power! How the fuck did I manage to forget something like that?!

"That's quite the tall order you've got there," Lucifer commented, "First you wanted the ability to see into the future, then it was the ability to immediately woo any man that tickled your fancy, and now this? You're just a puny, little human, after all. I'll tell you what, I'll give you the majority of the power you'll need to wipe this miserable town off of the map. I have a few demons working for me that would be happy to help you take care of the rest. In exchange--"

"My immortal soul?" Past Me interrupted.

Lucifer threw his head back and let out a hearty laugh, "Dear, you have no idea how much you owe me! I'm sure I'll be able to find a suitable way for you to pay off your debt, but you'll owe it to whichever demon you decide to employ for this task."

"I get to choose?"

A flimsy catalog appeared in Lucifer's hands, "Take your pick!"

I put my head in my hands. This entire day was now as fresh in my memory as ever. I didn't even need to wait with baited breath to make the realization. I knew full well which demon I had decided on as the image of myself stopped on a single page in the middle of the pamphlet.

The demon that I had chosen to help me was Sir Pentious.


	11. Chapter 11: Deal, or No Deal?

**Chapter 11: Deal or No Deal?**

When I finally came to from my pain-induced vision, I was in my room lying in my bed. My head was pounding, and my left arm still burned with the same fury as a blowtorch. My entire body felt like it was anchored to the bed as I struggled to roll onto my side and get my wings out from underneath me. Outside, the clocktower in the distance read that it was a quarter after eight. I'd been out of it for at least two hours.

Vaggie and Angel Dust were right at my side, looking me over with a shared look of concern. I made an attempt to sit up, only to fall back against my pillow.

"Take it easy there, toots," Angel said softly, "Don't strain yourself, now."

I let out a groan as I rested a hand against my head, "What happened?"

"Well, you sort of blacked out," Vaggie explained, "Alastor caught you as you went down. Charlie and Lilith were furious."

"And Lucifer?"

"He left. Care to fill us in on the rest?"

I swallowed as the reality of my situation started to hit me. The circumstances that led to me being sent to Hell were bad enough; paganism, witchcraft, murder, greed, and so on. Now I had a few deals with Lucifer and Sir Pentious on top of that! The evidence was etched into my very skin; my left forearm alight with the eerie green contract marks of the two demons. I had never seen them up until now, as they had been laying dormant. Out of sight, out of mind. Whatever Lucifer did must have reawakened them, causing the marks to burn and show up visibly from under my skin. With every deal I counted, redemption was looking more and more like an uphill battle with each passing minute.

I explained as much as I could to Angel and Vaggie. All of my power and insight, the entire reason I was as good of a witch as I was, was because of Lucifer. Past Me essentially used him as a crutch, maintaining a friendly relationship with the ruler of Hell in order to get exactly what I wanted. My debt to him was probably miles deep, and from the way he spoke to me earlier, I most likely still had a great deal left to pay back.

As for Sir Pentious... Well, my debt to him was only as deep as one would expect from a wannabe supervillain. During his reign of the south side, the orders he'd give me were usually tame. Typically, I'd be in charge of babysitting the EggBois; helping them along with their tasks during the day, and keeping them warm by tucking them under my wings at night. Back then, there were only a small handful of those rotten little Humpty Dumpties running around, but after he'd succeeded in creating a high-powered cloning device, the number of Eggbois I and the other winged demons could manage became more difficult each day.

And then Sir Pentious discovered my abilities. Not only was I a mother hen to no less than six EggBois at any given time. I also became the snake demon's personal fortune teller, and it was never just one reading that he wanted. Oh, no! He wanted insight on every angle to every one of his schemes, and it better have gone according to his plan, or else there was hell to pay. Every time I tried to give him a warning about trouble that was looming overhead, or he received an unsatisfactory reading, it led to a world of pain and misery for me. I'd be lucky if he just slapped me, or pelted me with insults. Sometimes I'd be subjected to days without food or water; however long it took for Sir Pentious's fortune to change, or for his readings to come to fruition.

That was how I met Hector. He was the one who kept me going through those dark, miserable times. All the way up until the day Alastor seized the south side from Sir Pentious's grasp; something else that I had tried to warn him about. I thought that was the end of it. I thought that I was finally free. I thought I would never have to worry about that bastard ever again.

I was wrong. The contract remained, and I still had a debt to pay.

Angel and Vaggie had seething looks on their faces as I finished spinning my tale, though I couldn't tell if they were mad at Lucifer and Sir Pentious, or me. Either would have been understandable. I thought I would be an easier case to handle. Give up smoking, put a lid on my potty mouth, use my abilities to help others, and do what was right instead of what was easy. Now, with a multitude of contracts in the way, my road to redemption just got a thousand times harder.

Vaggie eventually simmered down and took a calming breath.

"We'll find a way to sort this all out once you feel better," she said, "For now, get some rest. Al should be stopping by soon to bring you dinner."

"What?!" Angel screeched, "Are we seriously not goin' to talk about this?! This is fucked! This is seriously, seriously fucked!"

"It's fine, Angel," I piped up, "I'll figure out a way to get myself out of this mess. I always do."

Angel Dust looked like he wanted to argue, but bit his tongue as he forced himself to turn and follow Vaggie out the door. He stopped halfway across the room and tossed a glance back to me from over his shoulder.

"I hope you're right about that, June," he said in a low voice, "Contracts ain't easy to get out of. Three years of silence and ol' Luci still wants somethin' from you? It can only mean what he wants is no small errand."

"I know," I responded, "I'll work it out somehow. You'll see."

Angel said nothing more as he exited my room. I placed my hands on my lap as I started racking my brain for solutions. How exactly _was_ I going to work this out? I had at least four deals that I could remember off the top of my head, and it took an ungodly amount of time just to get out of one! Even if I started trying to pay back my debt right this second, I'd probably still be at it for a couple of centuries. What the hell was I supposed to do?!

Red filled my peripheral vision as the door to my room swung closed, revealing the tall, thin silhouette of Alastor standing in the corner. His unexpected appearance nearly made me leap from my bed. His toothy yellow, smile stretched from ear to ear as his eyes lit up with an unfathomable amount of eagerness. They narrowed as they locked onto me; hungry, almost like I was a full-course meal set out in front of him.

"Do you have to be so creepy?" I asked, curling my lip in a snarl, "You almost scared the shit out of me!"

"_I just couldn't help but overhear your little delema,_" he hummed, sauntering up to me with a skip in his step, "_It would seem you've gotten yourself into quite the pickle, haven't you?_"

I let out a frustrated grunt, "You got that right. This ain't gonna be no cakewalk, that's for sure."

Alastor regarded me with a look that I could only describe as, well, cheeky. It looked like he was enjoying seeing me struggle with my inner turmoil. He sat down at the edge of my bed, the hunger in his eyes intensifying as they moved from the markings on my arm to my sullen expression.

"_You know, Miss Charms_," he piped up, "_I do know a thing or two about deals, and I have quite a bit of power and influence as one of Hell's overlords._"

"Your point?"

A menacing look of sly mischief crossed the Radio Demon's face, his smile broadening as the red glow of his eyes increased. His aura was suffocating, filled with something sinister and riddled with wicked intent.

"_How would you like all those deals to just... go away?_"

If I didn't know any better, I would have leapt out at him and accepted the offer right then and there. The thing of the matter was that I _did_ know better. I _knew_ what he was implying, and although it was tempting, I was not about to dig myself deeper into the hole that I had already buried myself in.

"It's not that simple, is it?" I countered, "You want me to make a deal with you just to rid myself of the ones I already have? I'm not as stupid as I Iook, you know. I know this is only going to end with me owing you favors until the end of time."

"_Aw, come on, Juniper!_" Alastor seem to sing as he twirled on his toes, "_Live a little!__One little deal to rid yourself of many. Only needing to repay one demon, instead of two. That sounds like a bargain to me!_"

"It _sounds _like a trap! I mean, what do you have to gain by accepting three, four, maybe even more deals? What's in it for you?"

"_Entertainment_."

I rolled my eyes, "Of course..."

"_**And** the power of the deal is very much mutual. I'm not greedy like ol' Lucifer. Should you require any talents of mine, you need only call on me, and vice versa._"

I'm not gonna lie, his pitch was insanely tempting. A snap of my fingers, and I could call upon the Radio Demon whenever I needed him. Maybe I could get him to open the lid on the mysteries surrounding him, and all he would require in exchange were my services. That meant readings, spells, magic; all the insight he wanted on anything that he needed it for.

What the hell would Alastor want with that?!

"Be straight with me, Al," I said, leaning forward on my bed, "Why do you really want to take on my deals? What's in it for you?"

Alastor tossed a glance over his shoulder, almost as if he were checking to see if anyone was listening in on our conversation. It would be more than a little awkward if Vaggie or Charlie were about to walk in on us having this little discussion. He leaned forward and lowered his voice into white-noise-filled whisper that rattled with a beast-like growl.

"_Power_."

The word hit me like a brick as I recoiled with confusion, "What?"

"_Power, my dear_," Alastor repeated, "_Even you should know that I am well-known for making deals. Do you think that I was somehow born wielding all this power? Much like how you obtained your abilities by making deals with Lucifer, I obtained mine by making deals with, well, **everyone**. Beasts, overlords, and even the lowly street urchins of this world have something of value they can lend me in exchange for my help. More deals equals more power. **That's **__why I'm offering to take up your contracts._"

I stared at the Radio Demon in stunned silence. It was all coming together. His power was likely kickstarted in the same way mine had been, by making deals with Lucifer. That little seed of power laid out the foundation for his territorial takeover. A few deals here, a bit of genocide there, and before anyone knew it, Alastor had all demons and creatures that he could call upon as needed. It also explained why he looked so drained from time to time. Using that kind of power took a toll after a while, sucking the energy out of the user until they were too weak to carry on. Dealmakers had to take the good with the bad. They made deals to maintain power and control so they could remain dominant for as long as possible, and they made deals in order to have the physical strength to continue using that power.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked.

"_Like I said before,_" Alastor shrugged, "_If you'd like to know anything that pertains to me, you need only ask. And I think I can trust that this information will stay solely between the two of us._"

"Right."

Alastor leaned back and shot me a charismatic smile, "_So? What do you say, Miss Charms? Do we have a deal?_"

I tapped my fingers against my thighs as I tried to dumb down the terms of his offer.

"The power of the Radio Demon, as well as full-time access to any and all information about him that I want. A number of deals with Lucifer and Sir Pentious off my hands, all in exchange for amusement, power, and the use of my abilities whenever you so desire. That sound about right to you?"

"_Yes, indeedy!_"

I leaned back against my pillows and sighed. I couldn't believe that I was _actually _considering letting the red-clad demon talk me into this. One would think Lucifer's little stunt in the lobby, and being put on my ass by the pain of multiple contract seals would have taught me to stay far, far away from making any more deals with other charming personalities. And yet, here I was, gripping the covers to keep myself from sticking out my hand. Vaggie and Charlie would kill me, and I'm pretty sure it'd cost more than a ten-dollar bill for breaking probably one of the biggest rules in the hotel. I could lose any possibility of redemption, possibly forever.

But was it worth the sacrifice?

Looking back up at Alastor, I took in every expression his face conveyed. He was eager, hungry, and brimming with anticipation as he stuck out a hand. The eerie green light his palms emitted was accompanied by an electric hum; raw power that was ready and waiting to close the deal. However at the same time, I felt desperation rolling off of him. If anything, he wanted to make this deal just as badly as I wanted to be rid of my past contracts. If he was as reliant on dealmaking just to keep himself going like I thought he was, then I wouldn't doubt it.

Slowly, I lifted my hand and pushed his aside.

"Sorry, Al," I said, "But I really feel like this is something that I need to work out on my own."

Alastor took my rejection gracefully, throwing his hands up in a shrug as the anticipation drained from his face.

"_The offer still stands, if you change your mind,_" he hummed. He snapped his fingers and presented me with a plate of steak and mashed potatoes, "_Enjoy!_"

My mouth watered at the meal in front of me, but my attention veered back to Alastor as he began making his way towards my door.

"Hey, Al?" I called out to him, "What was that deal I saw you making with Lucifer earlier?"

The Radio Demon stopped dead in his tracks and slowly turned towards me. I'm pretty sure he was wondering just how I knew about that little transgression when I had been far out of his sight.

"_Oh, it's nothing to worry about,_" he said, "_Just a settlement between two ol' chaps, and nothing more._"

And with that, Alastor vanished out the door, leaving me to stare daggers at him long after the door closed behind him. Everything about that statement had been a blatant lie.

* * *

It was the next morning before I was well enough to climb out of bed. I had finally caught up on all of the sleep I had missed over the past few days, and was able to join the rest of the hotel in the dining room for breakfast. This wasn't going to be a laid back sort of day, though. I had plenty of things on my plate that I intended to work on.

The first thing was going to the palace and meeting with Lucifer to discuss just how much I was indebted to him for the past deals I had made. Given that I had passed out on him yesterday and the fact that he had left before I had woken up, I was sure that there was a number of things that we still needed to discuss. The second thing on my agenda was tracking down Sir Pentious and trying to get him to let go of the deal we had made. He had helped me back when I needed him, and I had done so much for that son of a bitch since I arrived in Hell that I felt like I had more than repaid him for his services.

If I didn't get anywhere with either of them, I still had a friend in the south side that could probably work something out before I had to resort to considering taking Alastor up on his offer from last night. And _that_ would only happen if I had zero options left at my disposal.

After breakfast, I sat down with Charlie to discuss my plans. Heaven didn't accept those that were still tethered to other demons, and she needed to know that there was something in the works. Not just with me, but that Alastor was plotting something, too.

"I can't believe he actually tried to talk you into another deal!" she gasped, standing in a corner in my room as I prepared to head out, "Maybe he had good intentions by trying to get you out of the deals you already have, but he should know that isn't a good way to go about it."

"Somehow I feel like his intentions are anything but good," I stated, "He has his own agenda, that much I do know. Where I fit into that is still unclear."

"I'm just glad you had the courage to say no to him. I'm proud of you, June."

I gave her a thankful smile as I slung my bag of supplies over my shoulder and threw on my cloak.

"Well, here goes nothing," I sighed, "Wish me luck."

Charlie nodded, trying to keep up a hopeful smile as I headed out the door. It fell into a look of worry, however, as I started down the hall and in the direction of the hotel's front entrance. Her concern was understandable. No matter how big or small it might be, there was a chance that all of this would fail. There was a chance that Lucifer and Sir Pentious wouldn't let go of their deals. There was a chance that my friend in the south side wouldn't be able to help me. There was a chance that I'd be left with nothing I could do but fall back on my last resort. There was a chance that this, all of this, could mean never achieving redemption.

And, as terrifying as that was, some part of me was okay with that. Some part of me was okay with staying down here. In the three years I had been in Hell, I hadn't seen a single one of my victims. In the beginning, I had tried asking for them, but they were nowhere to be found. I was hoping to at least be able to apologize for every bit of harm that I had caused, and that guilt still ate me alive every single day. There was a possibility that meant that all the people I had hurt were living their best afterlife in Heaven. Even if I managed to be completely rehabilitated, what was I supposed to do when I saw them again? Would I really be able to face them after everything I had done?

Once again I found myself coming back to the same question I'd been asking myself since I arrived at the Hazbin Hotel. Was I really worthy of redemption?

"Hey, June!"

The sudden voice yanked me out of my thoughts with a start. As I entered the lobby, Niffty scurried up to me as Husk trailed lazily behind. I could see the skepticism printed on their faces, especially as they eyed my cloak and my bag.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Husk grumbled, crossing his arms.

"Out," I replied curtly, "I've got a few things that I need to take care of."

"We heard. Al told us everything."

So much for keeping it between us. Then again, I had told Charlie about our little exchange last night, so I guess that made us even.

"So?" I asked, "I didn't take the deal. I've got enough of those on my hands."

"We came to warn you, June," Niffty piped up, twiddling her fingers as she shifted her weight on the tips of her toes, "Making a deal with Al is a very bad idea!"

"Ya think? Why do you think I said no?"

"Just take it from somebody who's been there before," Husk said, "He ain't exactly the _worst _demon you could make a deal with, but he's definitely the most annoying."

"You mean you _both _made deals with him?"

Husk and Niffty nodded in unison.

"The things he asks for in return are usually small," Husk continued, "Operating the front desk at a crummy hotel, for instance, or helping him in a fight, but he'll have you do it a million times over before he decides he'sbeen paid in full. And it gets even worse if you decide to ask something from him."

"What Husker is saying is that we don't want to see you end up like us," Niffty explained, "I really do like Alastor as a person, but deep down I really regret making a deal with him."

My heart twisted as I looked into the eye of the little cyclopian girl. Seeing someone as cheery as her brought down to a disheartened mess was heartbreaking, and only fueled my determination to do this on my own even further.

"All I want to know is why?" I stated, "Why would Al want a witch in his toolbox? He has more power in one of his pinkie fingers than I do in my entire body. What could he possibly want with me?"

"It isn't _you _that he wants," Husk said, "It's your deals. Whatever you were given when you made the deal, he wants it. Giving it to him will make him more powerful; less touchable than he is now. You'll just be another one of his peons to be used whenever it's convenient for him. It's all about power."

"Take our advice and _don't _make a deal with Alastor!" Niffty chimed in, "You don't need his help just to get out of your other deals. It won't be worth it."

"Don't worry," I said, "I've got a few options lined up that just might work. There's just one more thing that I really want to know, though."

"What's that?" Husk inquired.

I took a step back and stared the cat demon down, "What is Alastor planning?"

Husk's reaction to the question confirmed every suspicion that had been plaguing my mind since last night. His eyes widened as his ears twitched, his tail lashed nervously across the floor. There was a conflicted look on his face; a look that said he wanted to tell me what he knew, yet dreading the consequences that could result from it. Niffty took the easy way out and zoomed off to continue her duties, but Husk stayed rooted where his stood.

Eventually, he let out a sigh, "Vox."

The very mention of the name sent shockwaves of fright down my spine, "What the hell does he want with someone like Vox?!"

"It's a petty rivalry they have going. Al's pretty strong, but it wouldn't take much for Vox to put him on his ass."

That was no joke! Vox was one of the most powerful demon overlords to ever land in Hell. He might have been a little funny-looking, given that he had a TV for a head, but he wasn't one to be trifled with. Something as simple as a handshake could lead to an electric shock strong enough to fry a demon to a crisp. Rumor has it he was able to hypnotize people into doing his bidding, and if he couldn't then he most certainly was working on it. He didn't take any kind of shit from anyone, and was typically described as being apathetic, blunt, and as dull as a dishwasher; the complete opposite of Alastor.

"Alastor wants the power to take him down," Husk said, "Why? I dunno, but he'll need to become stronger in order to do it. That's what his deal is about. That'swhy he wants your contracts."

I started turning the entire scenario over in my head. A familiar song started up in the back of my mind, one that I used to listen on a loop for hours until I nearly went insane: Video Killed the Radio Star. I knew just how powerful Vox was. Not strong enough to rival Lucifer, but just enough that the line separating him from the likes of pure-blooded demons were blurred. No matter how I spliced it, no matter what I tried to think up to find something justifiable in it, my mind only came up with one conclusion.

Alastor was a fucking idiot.


End file.
